The Trial
by Tessa Marlene
Summary: Complete After Tsuzuki is convicted by a court sent by EnmaDiao, he is sentenced to endure a harsh trial. When his friends try to rescue him they discover a truth far more frightening and with more secrets than they could ever imagine or hope to defeat.
1. The Dream

Hi Folks, this is my first YnM fic and the first story I have posted on fanfiction.net. I am surprised that the first chapter turned out to be Tsuzuki+Hisoka, I'm not even into that pairing really (scratches head.) But I guess it was essential for the plot of the story (which is a long one if I manage to sit down and write it) and if things go the way I've planned, there will be a lot of Tsuzuki angst coming up (tons of it, gobs of it,) and lots more characters.  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, right. As if I could ever own Yami no Matsuei. I don't even know Japanese.  
  
...........  
  
The Trial- Chapter 1  
  
He was alone again. Where was he? Hisoka looked around, wondering about the vast number of trees surrounding him and the gravel road he was standing on. It was night. Not one of those creepy nights with the bleeding red moon. In fact, he couldn't see the moon; it was hidden behind a speck of clouds. But it still provided enough light for him to see in front of his feet although it didn't make the atmosphere less eerie. A chilling, unpleasant wind blew under his nightshirt as he stood there looking around.  
  
Without a thought or destination in mind he started walking. Trees went by him like an old strip of film in one of those rundown amusement rides. They weren't normal trees even, now that he looked at them up close. They looked like ghosts, like the trees he'd seen in the paintings at the Earl's castle. Vaguely shaped and fuzzy looking, their colors, mostly pale watermarks, bleeding into one another. "A dream. I must be in a dream," he said as he walked along.  
  
All of a sudden the tree-lined road ended and he stepped into a clearing. The moon chose that moment to slip out from under the clouds and he saw a figure at the center of the space lying face down on the ground. It was a man, he looked unconscious and his dark trench coat spread around him like the flaps of open wings. His chocolate brown hair hid a face that was turned to one side and away from Hisoka. Hisoka's breath hitched as recognition dawned on him, and he whispered a name the moment his breath came back to him. "Tsuzuki!"  
  
Almost instinctively, Hisoka ran towards the figure on the ground and kneeled down beside it. He reached out and turned the man over looking straight into the face of his partner. Tsuzuki seemed unconscious, his beautiful amethyst eyes closed and strands of dark brown hair falling onto his face that looked paler than the moonlight. Hisoka brushed the hair away, trying not to panic. He lifted the unconscious man in his arms and kept staring at his face; reaching with his mind to sense any kind of awareness from the man he was holding but only finding emptiness. "Tsuzuki!" he cried out, "Please, wake up. Wake up. Gods, what happened?"  
  
Tsuzuki didn't move, even when Hisoka started shaking him desperately while calling out his name. Hisoka was too drenched in his concern for his friend to notice odd, ghostly shapes detaching themselves from the trees around the circle and moving silently towards him. He was still holding the unconscious man in his arms, now calling to him only softly, when a shadow fell over Tsuzuki's face. Hisoka looked up. A shape was obscuring the moon. It wasn't quite solid enough to block the moonlight completely and Hisoka could see the circle of the moon every time it passes over it. There were a number of them, phantom like silhouettes gliding over his head like a pack of vultures. He shuddered and muffled a scream when he saw a pair of bright yellow eyes open and look at him in what seemed to be a face and then the one with the eyes slowly diving down, sliding in the air like a blob of airborne oil and reaching out a dark, bony hand from its formless body. He tightened his arms around Tsuzuki when he saw the creature was grabbing for his partner and screamed when he saw the rest of them descend and do the same. His hold on Tsuzuki loosened when they found purchase and started pulling him out of his hands. Soon he lost his clasp on him, watching in helpless horror as Tsuzuki's body was lifted into the air and taken away by the liquid strength of those fearsome creatures. Before moonlight filled his eyes he saw Tsuzuki's head hung back and his innocent face as it appeared in front of him. For a split second, the amethyst eyes slit open, aiming a look of such despair and loneliness toward him that the emotions threatened to choke him right there. Before he could take another breath to speak they were gone, leaving Hisoka alone in the middle of the circle of trees under the pale light of the washed-out moon.  
  
It took him a while to overcome his shock and release the scream he had bottled up in the back of his throat.  
  
"TSUZUKI!!!"  
  
And with that, he bolted out of his sleep.  
  
It was the middle of the night and Hisoka blinked a couple of times before his eyes got used to the darkness. He took a few deep breaths but it seemed like his lungs didn't want to let air pass through them, judging by the sound of his gasps. He thought about what he had seen as soon as he got his breathing under control. Lovely. A new kind of nightmare. So far, his most popular night terrors were either of Muraki's torment or Tsuzuki sitting amidst Touda's fire with him unable to reach him. This one was a new breed; he wondered where it had come from.  
  
He knew sleep wouldn't come that easily after that. Especially since.no, he wouldn't think about that, it was best to ignore the pain for now. He rolled onto his side and hugged his body, curling in a fetal position and trying to drive the thoughts of pain and nightmare out of his mind.  
  
His bedroom door creaked open and somebody's head peeked inside.  
  
Hisoka opened his eyes. Who.?  
  
He recognized the man as soon as the faint light in the room fell on his silky brown hair. It was Tsuzuki. Hisoka had forgotten that his partner was staying over that night. They had gotten used to doing that after the whole Kyoto chapter, staying at each other's place for comfort. Tsuzuki usually slept in the guest room next door. He must have woken him up he thought.  
  
"Hisoka?"  
  
Hisoka closed his eyes, feigning sleep. He didn't feel like talking right now, but he also knew that Tsuzuki must have seen him awake and wouldn't be going away.  
  
Tsuzuki came into the room and took a few hesitant steps. He came to stand a few feet from the bed, uncertain of what to do next. He didn't want to wake Hisoka, the boy needed as much sleep as he could get. But he could swear he had seen him blink when he came into the room.  
  
Annoyed at Tsuzuki's awkwardness Hisoka finally gave in and opened his eyes.  
  
"Tsuzuki, what do you want?"  
  
Tsuzuki pouted at Hisoka's irritated tone, "I heard you call my name."  
  
"Baka, I didn't call your name. Go back to sleep."  
  
"But I heard you myself, you said 'Tsuzuki'."  
  
"I said." but then he remembered. The end tail of the nightmare. He *had* screamed Tsuzuki's name in his dream. Had he screamed it out loud?  
  
"I had a nightmare; nothing important."  
  
Tsuzuki came closer and sat on the bed, dipping the mattress under his weight. A sliver of moonlight illuminated his face, revealing the kind and concerned look he was giving his partner. Silently he reached out and stroked the sweat-soaked hair out of Hisoka's eyes.  
  
"You ok now?" he asked, his voice full of compassion. Hisoka found himself leaning into the caress, nodding his head slightly.  
  
"Muraki?"  
  
The boy shook his head no. He didn't want to elaborate any more. Not before he had time to analyze this newest of his nightmares himself.  
  
"Sure you don't want to talk about it?"  
  
Another shake of his head. This time a yes.  
  
Tsuzuki sighed and without warning, swung his legs over the bed and laid down next to the blond. Hisoka was ready to protest when glistening amethyst orbs turned towards him and a hand touched his cheek. The comfort the small gesture gave him, coupled with waves of emotional care and concern coming from Tsuzuki, was all he needed to wipe away any thoughts of half hearted protest he might have entertained.  
  
He found himself breathing out a sigh.  
  
"Tsuzuki, am I ever going to lose you?"  
  
Tsuzuki's gentle stare changed into one of confusion. He looked shocked at his Partners words. But his shock was noting compared to Hisoka's own surprise, putting a hand over his mouth and looking at Tsuzuki with puzzled green eyes. Where had that come from?  
  
"What do you mean, Hisoka? Why would you ever have to lose me?" Tsuzuki whispered, his voice infinitely gentle despite his puzzlement.  
  
Hisoka sighed, "Never mind, something about that dream I suppose."  
  
Tsuzuki's hand returned to tenderly stroke his face. This time Hisoka flinched and hugged himself more tightly. Tsuzuki's brow furrowed in worry.  
  
"There's something else, isn't it?"  
  
Hisoka fidgeted. Unsure. "Yeah," he murmured, "My curse marks are burning." He hated his weakness. Didn't like to whine like a child but couldn't help himself with Tsuzuki being so soft and cuddly towards him.  
  
Tsuzuki's frown, however, deepened. "Are you sure it's not him?" Both of them knew whom he was talking about.  
  
Hisoka rolled onto his back, one arm stretched above his head and emerald eyes looking at the ceiling.  
  
"I honestly don't know, it's been like this for a while, a few nights to be exact. I usually try to ignore it and go to sleep, but tonight, the nightmare woke me up."  
  
He could hear Tsuzuki's sharp intake of breath and sense his emotions change from concern into fiery anger. He knew how much Tsuzuki hated Muraki. What amazed him was how he always got worked up over the issue when it concerned Hisoka and what the psychopathic doctor had done to him instead of what he himself had gone through at the evil man's hands.  
  
Hisoka closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind from all those unpleasant memories. It was easier said than done. Once the image of the madman invaded his thoughts it was hard to make it leave. He let out a deep sigh and shivered slightly. All of a sudden, he felt strong arms gather him into a soft embrace and the brush of Tsuzuki's silky hair tickling the side of his face. Tsuzuki was so warm, so supple, and he found himself melting in his arms.  
  
"Sleep, Hisoka. I'll be here when you wake up."  
  
Almost without a conscious will, Hisoka sank deeper into the gentle arms, basking in the warmth and protection his best friend gave him. His thoughts started to drift again. He thought about himself, about what he had found in his life after death. How could he ever be able to live without this? Why should he think about losing it anyway? Gods, please don't make my Tsuzuki go away, ever. I need him to be by my side. I need him like this, need him so much. My dear, dear Tsuzuki-chan. Please don't take him away from me.  
  
"Promise me, that you'll never leave me alone." He muttered almost inaudibly into Tsuzuki's chest. He felt the arms tighten around him and a whisper, nearly as muffled as his own, breathed into his hair.  
  
"I promise. Now go to sleep."  
  
And with that, they both fell into a peaceful sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author's note: Ok, now is a good time to tell you that I'm actually new to YnM. I've seen the anime with terrible subs and have only read four volumes of the mange, so if anything here sounds out of place please let me know. I'd appreciate your thoughts on my writing. 


	2. The News

This is the second chapter of The Trial. I figured I'd post it sooner so that I get into the real plot asap. Thanks to all who reviewed chapter one and sorry to those who couldn't because my settings were on 'no anonymous reviews.' Well guys, here is your chance to try it again ;)  
  
BTW. almost all online DVD stores were sold out on YnM, but thanks for the suggestions you guys gave me. I got mine weeks ago from fetchamovie.com. Hasn't arrived yet, though.  
  
Here is a Warning: I'm making up some stuff about Meifu and the gods and spirits of the after life here. It's all my own personal BS, made up by yours truly, and even more will come up in the following chapters. So please don't shoot me for it. I really, really need this stuff for the plot and I don't know anything about Japanese myths to make use of it.  
  
............  
  
The Trial - Chapter Two  
  
Tatsumi quietly entered the chief's office and closed the door. He was called in unexpectedly from his business of managing accounts to see Konoe in his office and that didn't quite sit well with him.  
  
"Please have a seat, Tatsumi-san."  
  
Konoe wasn't at his desk. The older man was standing by the window looking outside at the gardens in a contemplative manner. Definitely not a good sign Tatsumi thought as he found himself a chair to sit down.  
  
A moment of silence followed before Konoe finally turned around and walked back to his desk. He sat down, folding his hands in front of him and looking at his secretary who was the man he trusted the most. Tatsumi could see a hint of concern in his superior's eyes but, as always, he maintained his cool and professional poise.  
  
"I had a message from Enma-DiaOh this morning. Something not so pleasant has happened in Meifu," the chief started.  
  
Tatsumi's face remained detached as he took in the news. He didn't feel too concerned about it. After all, it didn't sound anything out of the ordinary conducts of JuOhCho. More often than not something unpleasant was happening in the world of the dead.  
  
"They say" the chief continued, " a.disturbance has been reported from EnmaCho's Shokan Division, and it has had destructive effects on some of the higher beings."  
  
That got the secretary's attention. He sat up in his chair, looking at his boss with a frown on his face. "What kind of a disturbance?" he asked.  
  
Konoe took a deep breath and replied, "To be honest with you, Tatsumi-san, I am not sure. The message wasn't too clear. But it said it was some kind of an evil vibration coming from our department. Something having to do with demons or the residues of a kind."  
  
Tatsumi grasped his chin with his fingers and looked to the side, thinking about what he'd just heard. It didn't sound rational to him. Since Tsuzuki's possession by Saagatanasu there hadn't been any major demon incidents in the Shokan devision, and that had been a while ago. No way anything of that beast could have stayed for so long. And even if that were the case, why would it rear its head now?  
  
He dropped his hand and turned back to his supervisor. "What else did the message say about the disturbance?"  
  
Konoe scratched his head as if trying to remember. "Well," he stated, "It said that this special kind of vibe wasn't something that shinigami or even higher authorities in Meifu could detect. The only reason it was noticed was because it had had an upsetting effect on the resident spirits of the Temple of Silence."  
  
Tatsumi's eyes went wide. "You are saying it awakened.?"  
  
"We're still not certain about that. Enma's message didn't say anything. But before we hear anything further from them we better get to the bottom of this thing, evil vibration or whatever it is. We should do our best to prevent disaster from happening before we hear it has happened."  
  
Tatsumi's frown deepened and he sat back in his chair. He didn't like the sound of that one bit. The spirits of the Silent Temple were some of the most powerful beings in Meifu who spent their entire lives sleeping at the temple. Their sleep was the highest form of meditation that provided them with profound images and meanings about the lives and deaths of the creatures in the world. The knowledge and understanding they gained through this deep spiritual practice was a valuable source to Enma-DiaOh and other authorities in the Hades agency.  
  
Which meant bad news for all of them if what Konoe said was true, especially since the Shokan division of the summoning agency, with its low- paid slacking employees and always indebt budget reports was a speck of dirt compared to the high standing residents of the Temple of Silence.  
  
He stood up, every bit the stern and determined secretary he was known as. If any kind of trouble was caused by the department under his administration, he would be the one to take care of it as well as punish the culprit.  
  
"I see to it that the matter is investigated, Konoe-kachou." He turned to leave.  
  
"Tatsumi-san!"  
  
Tatsumi turned back. Konoe's eyes were closed and his chin was resting on his tented hands so that all Tatsumi could see of his face was the part above his nose. It was a typical gesture for his boss when he was in deep thought.  
  
"Don't say anything to anyone yet. We should await more information from higher ups. I will contact Enma personally to see what he has to say. But for now, we better keep the matter between ourselves." Konoe opened his eyes.  
  
Tatsumi nodded, understanding his superior perfectly. "Hai."  
  
The old kachou watched as his right hand man left the office. He sat there for a while, thinking different thoughts before rising from his chair and going to see if he could get anything new from his own superiors.  
  
.....  
  
That same morning.  
  
"Ohayyyyyyyyyyo, Wakaba- chan! How are you doing?"  
  
A joyful Tsuzuki followed by an eye-rolling Hisoka entered the infirmary room where Kannuki Wakaba was sitting on a bed with one leg hanging in a sling. She smiled as she heard the cheerful greeting from her most favorite trouble making coworker.  
  
"Ohayo, Tsuzuki-san, Hisoka-san. I'm fine. Feeling much better already."  
  
Tsuzuki gave her his trademark, cutesy grin as he plopped down next to her on the bed and held a jar sans the lid in front of her face.  
  
"Look! I made jam. You should try it." He said excitedly.  
  
Hisoka rolled his eyes again. Wakaba gave a nervous laughter and looked from Hisoka to the eager Tsuzuki and back a couple of times before waving her hands rapidly and saying, "Uh, hehe, maybe later Tsuzuki-san. I'm now.um, quite full."  
  
Tsuzuki replaced the lid on the jar and set it on the table next to the bed, nodding his head politely. While doing all that he missed the relieved expression passing over his friend's face. He kept on babbling, "Ok, sure. But definitely try it later and tell me what you think. I took a lot of care to follow the recipe exactly this time. I'm sure everything is ok. It just looks a little sugary around the edges, and the color came out a little purplish, don't know why. I guess that's natural for some strawberry jams, isn't it?"  
  
He turned to the patient on the bed and Wakaba quickly changed her nauseated expression into a cheerful one, much to Hisoka's amusement. She nodded enthusiastically. "Hai, I'm sure it is. I'll try it later, I promise." She gave him a genuine smile.  
  
Hisoka came closer. "Why are you still in bed, Wakaba-chan? Watari said your leg's healed a while ago."  
  
She turned her smile towards him. "I know." She looked at her foot and moved it up and down a couple of times as if to reaffirm that. "But my ankle is still weak. Watari-san said it was shattered in the accident, getting caught between the seat and the bus's door. So it took longer to heal even with shinigami powers. Now it's all right but I had it unmoving for so long that I need a few exercises before I can walk again." She wiggled it again and gave a small chuckle.  
  
Hisoka shrugged. Tsuzuki looked at his female coworker and became serious. "Well, thank goodness you and Terazuma-san are safe. I heard that school bus accident was a really bad one. It wouldn't have killed you but it could have injured you pretty bad."  
  
Wakaba bobbed her head. "I know, good thing Terazuma-chan wasn't on the bus when it happened. I couldn't have taken all the kids out without his help, being injured and all. And thanks to him, their souls are all safe now and can heal here before they can return to their bodies and wake them up from their coma."  
  
Tsuzuki's eyes became round. "You mean you took those injured kids' souls here?"  
  
As if on cue, the door to the room burst open and a gang of grade school kids ran inside.  
  
"Hiiiiiiiiiiiii, Wakaba-chaaaaaaaaaan! You promised you would play with us."  
  
"Hey, are these your friends?"  
  
"What is this? Looks like jam but why is it purple? Is this a new kind of silly putty? "  
  
Tsuzuki frantically looked around as the kids took the room by storm. All of a sudden he got angry chibi and all googly eyed as he noticed the kid who was sticking his finger in his carefully crafted strawberry jam.  
  
"Hey, watch that you. That is for Wakaba-chan."  
  
Wakaba waved her hand trying o calm them down. "No no. Let him have it. You can make me more later, ne Tsuzuki-san?"  
  
Before Tsuzuki could reply the boy who was inspecting the jar scooped up a gob of jam and threw it at another kid standing next to the bed. It hit her right in the face. The victim, getting annoyed, jumped at her friend and a fight over the jar of weird looking jam ensued. Tsuzuki twitched and that was the only warning Hisoka and Wakaba got before he had joined the melee on the floor, grabbing for the jelly jar like a five year old in a sandbox. The rest of the kids, seeing this as a totally fun situation, gathered around them and started cheering them on. It wasn't long before they too joined the scuffle and the room became a battle scene of screaming, jelly tossing youngsters.  
  
Tsuzuki, for his part, was doing a great job as a 26-year-old looking 100- year-old guy not allowing any of them to take him down. Hisoka sighed as he looked at his partner's jelly smeared face while the man was holding a hysterically screaming kid down and rubbing the purple goo into his face. Two other kids were hanging from the shinigami's neck, pushing and pulling like mad monkeys in a mating ritual and their cheerful screams almost drowned Tsuzuki's rabid chattering of: "I'll show you, you brats."  
  
For the third time that day, Hisoka rolled his eyes and looked at Wakaba in total desperation.  
  
"See what I have to put up with everyday?"  
  
The female shinigami chuckled in reply. "Oh, but that is the best thing about Tsuzuki-san. You see, he's such a kid himself. It only makes him all the more charming."  
  
"Yeah," Hisoka mumbled. "I just wished he could go and charm someone else, and not when we're on our shift."  
  
Wakaba eyed him caringly. "Oh, Hisoka-kun. Don't be mad at Tsuzuki-san. He's doing a good thing for these kids. You see, they are traumatized and don't know where they are. Even though the truth is that we'll bring them back to ChiJou after their recovery, there's still the chance that they might get confused and think they are dead not wanting to go back. So it is good to cheer them up and keep them in high spirit." She motioned towards Tsuzuki who was holding the now empty jar of jam victoriously over his head and the kids jumping around him trying to get to it.  
  
Hisoka shook his head in semi agreement before walking up to his silly looking partner and his entourage and pulling him out of the chaos. While he was at it, he turned back to Wakaba and said, "I guess we should be out of here now.. Damn it, Tsuzuki. Would you stop that for a second? Wakaba- chan, it was nice seeing you. Let us know when you get out of the hospital."  
  
Wakaba beamed at him and held up a hand for bye, chirping, "Sure, Hisoka- chan, Tsuzuki-chan. Take care of yourselves. And thanks for stopping by."  
  
Tsuzuki stopped his struggle long enough to say a hasty bye before he was dragged out by his partner. Wakaba listened to their voices echoing through the corridor, "I said stop that, you baka. Now we'd have to go to the washroom so that you can clean up that silly face of yours."  
  
She sighed and shook her head, giggling slightly.  
  
The two shinigamies went to the washroom and Tsuzuki washed the remainder of the battle from his face. He was complaining about Hisoka not letting him enjoy his victory for taking the jar from those kids.  
  
Hisoka huffed, "If you act just a bit more your age, you wouldn't have to fight them for your precious purple jam."  
  
Tsuzuki made a puppy face. "But Hisoka, they were a bunch of brats."  
  
"So? And what are you? Look at yourself. You made a fool of us in front of Wakaba and the entire hospital staff."  
  
That made Tsuzuki sprout a tail and two fuzzy ears. "But Hisoka." he started whining when he saw Hisoka pale slightly and lean on the counter for support. Tsuzuki rushed to his side immediately.  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
Hisoka took a few deep breaths and answered, "Nothing. I'm still a little short on sleep."  
  
"The curse marks."  
  
". hurt every night. Yes, that is exactly what it is. But now, at least, I know what is causing it."  
  
Tsuzuki's eyes darkened. He grabbed a towel and wiped the water off his face before saying, "Let me guess. Muraki." It wasn't even a question.  
  
Hisoka closed his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly, "he appeared in my dream last night and told me why he was doing it. He said it was some kind of an experiment, or just that he wanted to get back at me for Kyoto."  
  
Tsuzuki's anger was palpable. "Why, that bastard. If I get my hands on him."  
  
Hisoka looked at him worriedly. "No Tsuzuki. You'd better stay as far away from him as possible. We both know this is all because he wants you to fall into his hands again. I can't let that happen. Besides, if it's just a damned experiment or petty revenge, I'm sure he will tire of it soon."  
  
"But, it will hurt you so much in the mean time."  
  
"I can.take care of myself." Hisoka looked away. "I don't want you involved. I don't want him to touch you ever again."  
  
"But."  
  
They were both startled by the sound of an explosion coming from outside. Tsuzuki grabbed Hisoka's arm and they both ran to the window.  
  
"What was that?" Tsuzuki asked. Hisoka was about to say something when he looked over to where he saw smoke rising and his voice caught in his throat.  
  
"Hisoka, what is it?" Tsuzuki asked anxiously.  
  
"Look." Unable to say anything more, the boy pulled on his partner's sleeve and pointed in the direction he was looking.  
  
Tsuzuki's face took on the same stunned look as Hisoka's when he saw what he was showing him. Still, he was able to speak when he got over his shock. "What the hell is that?"  
  
tbc  
  
-----------  
  
Yeah I know, a cliffhanger. Wasn't deliberate though; I didn't mean for this chapter to be this long, but the hospital scene and the images of Tsuzuki fighting with kids just got me. I promise I'll get to the angsty parts soon, just hang in there. And while you're at it, why not give this lonely, tired writer some reviews. It's nearly 1:15 in the morning here :) 


	3. The Attack

Well, here it is, the third chapter. I was too busy with work this week and it took me a while to write this down.  
  
Thank you Literally Eagle for reviewing chapter two; you single handedly encouraged me to continue this story, and I promise that more than a Jam fight will happen next.  
  
I'm still B.S.ing about all the mythical stuff. It seems to be working so I'll keep doing it for a while :) Thanks for reading.  
  
The Trial - Chapter Three  
  
Smoke was rising from behind one of the administration buildings when Tsuzuki and Hisoka finally found their way out of the hospital. The creature causing the havoc was still partly hidden behind the building but from where Hisoka stood, he could see the side of a large, rippling body - over 200 feet tall - moving behind the structure and trying to get around it. It seemed like in its effort to do so the creature had destroyed a part of the building and now alarms where going off all over JuOhCho.  
  
"What is that thing?" Hisoka found himself asking. Behind them, the doors to the hospital burst open and an army of noisy kids spilled out to see what was going on. They heard the sound of trees being crushed and all eyes turned in that direction.  
  
"I can't see it yet." Tsuzuki said, his eyebrows knitting together, "but if it keeps rampaging around like that, I sure as hell am going to stop it." Tsuzuki's face was serious, and there was a note of steel in his voice that Hisoka recognized from when his partner was ready to fight and protect other people. This was the other side of Tsuzuki Asato, the most powerful and practiced shinigami in Meifu.  
  
"Stand back, Hisoka. I'll take care of this. Take the kids inside and close the doors. You better warn Wakaba-chan as well." He was already reaching into his pocket for a Fuda.  
  
"What? Not a chance, you idiot. I'm not going to hide behind your back when the situation is like this. If we're partners - which we were last time I checked - we're gonna fight this thing together."  
  
"But the kids..."  
  
"That's why we have hospital staff. I'm not a babysitter either."  
  
Tsuzuki shook his head. "Alright, alright. But make sure you stay--" He was cut off as the creature finally burst its way out of the obstructions and came into full view.  
  
Hisoka's eyes went wide. It wasn't just the sheer size of the thing, or the fact that it was hovering 10 feet above the ground. The young shinigami wasn't sure he had seen anything like it before, and he and Tsuzuki had fought some very impressive demons in the past. But this thing..., Hisoka couldn't put a finger on it, there was just something disturbing about it. The whole shape of the monster was like a large, vibrant sheet thrown over some giant blimp, the edges of the curtain fluttering gently but consistently in the air. There was no head or tail or any other limbs, just a halo on the top that seemed to emit a glow. In fact, now that Hisoka could see it up close, the whole thing seemed to be glowing from within, its colors changing like an optical illusion. Like those bugs that reflected rainbow when they were touched by the sunlight. And what was more, the rippling curtain of body looked semi-transparent even though it crashed into anything it came into contact with.  
  
"Hisoka...go back inside the building and close the doors." Tsuzuki's voice was uncharacteristically calm. Hisoka was startled. He looked up at his partner inquiringly. Tsuzuki's eyes were trained on the creature with a strange look - what was it exactly? fear? hesitation? despair? - clouding them. It was a rare look for the purple-eyed shinigami and it made Hisoka even more concerned.  
  
"Why Tsuzuki? You said I could stay. What's going on?"  
  
Tsuzuki turned to him, the same look, now tinged with worry, shadowing his face.  
  
"Please, Hisoka. Just take the kids and go inside. I'll explain to you later, I'll promise. Just go. Please."  
  
The pain-filled look on Tsuzuki's face and the way his eyes begged with him was enough for Hisoka to stop him from arguing any further. He turned and ushered the kids inside, closing the hospital door behind them.  
  
There were protests from the kids who insisted they wanted to watch, but Hisoka' signature glare and commanding attitude stopped them right on the spot. They all rushed to the room Wakaba was occupying, which had the best view to the scene outside. A dozen faces plastered themselves against the windowpane, not wanting to miss a bit of the action. Hisoka had to squeeze himself in and yell at a couple of faces before he could get enough room to look outside. 'Brats' he thought to himself, for once agreeing with Tsuzuki. Finally he found a spot were he could see his partner clearly.  
  
Tsuzuki was standing right were he had left him, facing the monster alone. Hisoka's heart clenched in his chest. He wasn't sure why he was worried so much about him. Tsuzuki was strong, much stronger than he could ever dream of being. He had faced monsters twice as big and three times as vicious as this one. He guessed it was the look in his partner's eyes, that look he gave him just before he asked him to leave, that worried Hisoka the most.  
  
The monster - who had been frozen for a while - was now moving again. As silent and seamless as a floating balloon it approached the hospital building and a collective gasp was heard from the occupants of the room.  
  
Tsuzuki threw a handful of Fuda paper slips at the hospital structure and right away, a translucent, humming barrier was created around it. The creature crashed into it and was momentarily stalled. Still, it didn't stop it from pursuing its goal. It moved back and rushed at the barrier again, and again. With each blow the whole building quaked and rumbled. The kids fled to the farthest corner of the room, cowering behind Wakaba's bed who - confined as she was - looked at the window with wide, frightened eyes. Now it was only Hisoka standing by the window.  
  
Tsuzuki saw the barrier starting to cave in and reached inside his coat for more protective spells. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. Why was the creature attacking the hospital instead of him? As if hearing that thought, the monster turned toward the shinigami just as he was about to use the Ofudas again and a blinding blue blast shot out of the creature's body to hit Tsuzuki straight on. It happened so fast he didn't have time to dodge and was knocked down to his knees in excruciating pain.  
  
"Tsuzuki!!!" Hisoka cried out.  
  
"What is happening?" Wakaba yelled from her bed. A few muffled sobs and whimpers were heard from behind her. Hisoka's worried eyes remained on his partner who was bent over on the ground. But then he realized something else; the barrier was breaking. With Tsuzuki down, there was no strength to keep it up against the onslaught of the creature banging against it. Hisoka knew he had to think fast. "Come on!" he yelled at the others, "We have to get out of here." He helped Wakaba out of the bed, and together - Wakaba still limping - they lead the kids out of the hospital just as the creature succeeded destroying the last bit of the shield and demolished that side of the building where their room was.  
  
Hisoka wanted go to Tsuzuki but he remembered what the older shinigami had asked him before and shepherd the kids as far away as he could to the safety of another building. They hid at its side, where he had a clear view of what was happening without being in the immediate path of danger.  
  
Tsuzuki was up on his feet again, but for some reason he wasn't attacking the creature. He was just standing there. Before long, the thing noticed that the occupants had left the building and slowly turned to seek them. 'Why is it after us?' Hisoka thought restlessly as he watched the thing starting to float once again towards them.  
  
'This isn't working.' He turned to take off with the kids again when he heard a blast behind him. He jerked back and saw the creature stopped dead in its track, smoke coming from its back and its form shimmering in an unpleasant way. At least it wasn't moving anymore. He was ready to spring out toward it when another blast, this one not as loud, sounded near him and the liquidy barrier that protected him and the group reappeared around them. Tsuzuki emerged from behind the creature, looking partly healed and his eyes set on the enemy.  
  
"Leave them alone." He ordered it in a calm voice. Hisoka's mouth fell open. Why was Tsuzuki reasoning with it? Was he out of his mind? And he had only hit it once with an ordinary, harmless blast. Why hadn't he summoned any of his shikigami yet? Something was really, truly wrong here.  
  
In any case, talking to the monster instead of attacking it appeared to be not the brightest idea as Hisoka noticed a moment later when the creature - seemingly coming out of its daze -whirled around and lashed out at Tsuzuki. This time, the close proximity made the shinigami go down on the spot, screaming in pain. The barrier shimmered and got as thin as a soap bubble. The giant body turned around and with a shocking speed of a fright train, rushed its body toward the group huddled inside.  
  
The blast that followed this time was nothing short of earth shattering. It filled Hisoka's vision with a blinding white light that caused him to close his eyes for a couple of seconds. The earth underneath shook violently and he lost his footing even before he recognized what was going on. He fell to the ground, covering his ears against the roar of the explosion, distantly realizing how the barrier had strengthened again and was protecting them from whatever was happening outside. He was grateful for that because whatever *was* happening out there wasn't in any way small or pleasant.  
  
When the noise finally died down and the earth stopped shaking Hisoka got to his feet, peering through the dust and smoke rising from the ground beyond the barrier he tried to see something but was unable to. He turned and found Wakaba kneeling next to the children, looking at him with terrified eyes. "Watch over them. I'm going to find Tsuzuki." And with that, he stepped out of the shield.  
  
It was hard to see with all the smoke and debris that was all around him but, at last, he found his partner. Tsuzuki was on his knees, his head bent down and he was hugging himself tightly with his arms. Hisoka immediately ran toward him, falling to his knees next to him and searching for the face that was covered with blood and dust and chocolate colored hair. "Tsuzuki, what happened? Are you all right?"  
  
Tsuzuki only lifted his head. His face was expressionless as he looked straight ahead. Hisoka stared at him dumbfounded, not knowing what the problem was. In the distant, he could hear the shouting of the rest of the division running towards them but he didn't want to pay them any attention. His whole focus was centered on the resigned and broken look on his partner's face. 'Like in that dream.' it disturbingly came to him. He desperately wanted to do something, speak, yell, throw himself at Tsuzuki, anything to break this uncomfortable, silent spell he and his partner seemed to have fallen under.  
  
"I killed it, Hisoka." Tsuzuki's voice sounded frail, even more distant than his eyes.  
  
"I know, Tsuzuki. You saved us. You should be proud of yourself." Hisoka babbled, feeling disturbed by the way Tsuzuki's voice trembled, as if he regretted killing that terrible thing. Timidly, he reached out with his senses to touch Tsuzuki's mind and see if he could recognize what was going on. He almost gasped when the other man abruptly slammed sturdy shields in his face, effectively blocking him from prying inside his head. Hisoka shuddered and closed his eyes. This was not good at all.  
  
He heard footsteps approaching them and recognized Tatsumi's voice. Soon a group of coworkers were all around and he saw Tatsumi's tall form towering over them. Tsuzuki was still quiet, but he seemed to recognize the secretary too. "Tsuzuki-san, are you alright?" Tatsumi's voice was worried as he touched Tsuzuki's cheek in that tender way he always did when he was concerned for the amethyst-eyed man. Tsuzuki nodded his head and stood up, Hisoka following him suit. The secretary turned to the hospital staff that had come out of the building and were helping the children. "Take the patients inside, settle them in the undamaged part of the building and make sure they are all right." He then put an arm around Tsuzuki's shoulder, guiding him away. But before going, he turned to Hisoka and said, "Kurosaki- kun, please go to Enmacho and fill in a report about what happened."  
  
Excuse me? Hisoka couldn't believe his ears. Here they were, barely recovering from a vicious attach from an unknown foe and all Tatsumi could think of was the freaking report? What would he have Tsuzuki do? Tally the damages?  
  
Apparently, the secretary read his thoughts from his stance because his eyes softened a bit and he said, "Don't worry about Tsuzuki-san. I'll take care of him. Just go and do as I tell you. Believe me, at this moment, it is the most important thing you can do."  
  
No one could argue against Enmacho's secretary for too long and Hisoka was no exception. With a nod of his head he walked toward the office, leaving carnage, smoke and a bunch of shell-shocked nurses trying to calm equally frightened children behind.  
  
------------------  
  
"Why wouldn't anyone answer me?"  
  
"Don't yell like that, Bon. I'm only five feet away."  
  
Hisoka balled his fists at his sides and glared at the scientist as if he wanted to rip his head off. He had been like that for the past hour, ever since Watari had taken him out of his office and into the lab under the pretense of helping him with some whacked out project. It wasn't hard to see that it was only a decoy to keep him away from the rest of the office.  
  
"Everyone is so tense up they all look like walking Violin sticks. And nobody is saying anything as if I am the dumbest person around. I'm an empath for God's sake; I can read it from your minds if I have to. Or have you guys forgotten that small, insignificant detail?"  
  
Watari waved his hands trying to dismiss the argument. "No, no. You shouldn't worry, Bon. No one thinks you are dumb. Just stick with me for a while and calm yourself down. I'm sure things will blow over soon."  
  
Hisoka felt like exploding at any moment. "I don't want to calm myself down. I don't want things to blow over behind my back. I want to know what is going on. RIGHT NOW."  
  
"Now that you insist, Hisoka-kun, then you should know this: the Shokan division is in deep trouble." A new voice come from the door saving the scientist from having to come up with another half-baked excuse. They both looked in that direction and saw the older GuShoShin with a load of books in its hands. The chicken-like creature floated toward the closest desk, dumping its burden on the surface and flexing its back.  
  
Hisoka retorted angrily. "That much I've gathered. It's either that or something in the water is causing everyone to go constipated. So are you gonna tell me what it is? "  
  
The beaked librarian hesitated for a while before slowly floating toward them. Watari was silent. He seemed upset as if he were told not to say anything himself but also not to prevent GuShoShin.  
  
"Hisoka-kun, you remember that ... huge thing that attacked you and the others at the hospital this morning, right?"  
  
Hisoka nodded.  
  
"Tsuzuki-san killed it, didn't he?"  
  
"Yeah, so?" Hisoka snapped.  
  
GuShoShin took a deep breath, then, "Have you heard about the spirits of the Silent Temple?"  
  
"No."  
  
"They are some of the most respected and powerful beings in the underworld. Even Enma-sama holds high regards for them. Harming them in any way, even if it is only to disturb their meditation, could be punishable by death. Eternal death that is."  
  
Hisoka gulped, he didn't like where this was going. "Ok?"  
  
GuShoShin looked down and went silent. Even Watari was hanging his head. Hisoka felt his heart swell up to his throat. "Ok?" he asked again.  
  
"The thing that Tsuzuki-san killed this morning.." The librarian finally continued, not looking Hisoka in the face, "was one of those beings, one of the high spirits from the Temple of Silence."  
  
tbc  
  
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Phew, finally. We got to the actual plot. I'm trying so hard to get this to where I want it but setting everything up is taking a lotta time and I am sooooo tired :( Hope you all liked this chapter. Please let me know what you thought about it, even if it is that it was just crap :) 


	4. The Prosecutor

Hey all. Here we are again. Chapter 4, the start of all things angsty and bad :)  
  
Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. Sorry Literary Eagle I misspelled your name and thanks for your comments. Amy, hopefully this chapter will explain who gave that order to keep Hisoka away. Aikawa and Aubrey, thanks for showing interest in the story. I hope you all like this chapter.  
  
Warning: Lots of Tsuzuki-angst, Tatsumi-angst, Hisoka-angst, Watari-angst, Wakaba-angst, umm...Konoe-angst, did I miss anyone?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the YnM characters, but Isorou Masaki is mine (took me a while to find his name,) so be gentle with him or else...Muhahahaha  
  
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The Trial - Chapter Four  
  
Konoe was waiting in the meeting room. He was a patient man, one who wasn't easily affected by stressful situations and could always keep his head straight in messy ones. That was why he had put himself in charge this time. Of course, Tatsumi was great in that regards too, always up to the mark and able to put things in the right order. But if the situation involved Tsuzuki - particularly injured or distraught - Tatsumi would lose that talent of his in record time and became a mess himself. The man wouldn't be able to keep his head out of his Tsuzuki-protection bucket long enough to manage anything. And since this was one of those times Konoe had assumed the role of the leader without asking.  
  
He looked up as the door to the meeting room opened and Wakaba and Terazuma walked in. Wakaba's hair was in disarray and it looked like someone had tried to hastily put it in order. Her eyes were red and Konoe knew she must have been crying. She was also limping. Konoe shook his head; this poor girl should be in the hospital recovering from what happened to her both before and after this morning's incident. He wished the higher ups had at least given them a day or two before showing up at their doorstep.  
  
Next came Watari and Hisoka, followed by the GuShoShin. Here was another person whom he had wanted to give some resting time. He had specifically asked that Hisoka be kept away from the office turmoil out of worry for his empathy. After hearing what had happened, the emotional charge within Enmacho's staff was high and Hisoka would have gone crazy receiving the jumble of worry, fear and apprehension from so many sources. Unfortunately, the necessity of the sudden meeting had canceled that plan as well and forced him to send GuShoShin to call both the boy and Watari to the room.  
  
He tapped his fingers nervously on the table and looked to his left, where EnmaDiao's delegate was sitting. He swallowed at the stern look that he saw on the man's face. None of them had expected them to show up so soon, barely hours after the incident. But then again, the news of the spirits having been disturbed was not that recent, and Enma had told him he would send someone to investigate the situation. He just hadn't expected the situation to get so exponentially worse in the mean time.  
  
Konoe looked back at his shinigami as they took their seats and started scrutinizing the new comer with curious eyes. He didn't like the way they seemed to recoil from the guy. He didn't like their nervous stares directed at him either. To be honest, he didn't even like the way the room was set up, with him and Enma's delegate sitting at a table at the head of the room and everyone else sitting at different tables facing them. It looked too much like a courtroom. But then again, as much as he wanted to deny it, this was a court after all.  
  
At last Tatsumi and Tsuzuki arrived. It was just as Konoe had expected. Tsuzuki's head was down and Tatsumi had his arm around his shoulder whispering something in his ear. They had stayed together the entire time after what had happened, until he had called for them. He saw Tatsumi look up, finding his eyes and acknowledging him with a nod of his head before looking for a seat. Since all the seats facing the head table were taken, Tatsumi opted for a table by the door on the left side of the room, guiding Tsuzuki to sit there and taking the seat right next to him. Now that everyone was there the meeting could get started.  
  
Konoe gracefully rose from his chair and announced the commencing of the meeting by clearing his throat. Everyone became quiet at once.  
  
"Thank you all for showing up to this emergency meeting on such short notice. As most of you might know, an incident happened this morning at the hospital building that left a lot of damages and some casualties. I won't bore you with the details of what happened, as I'm sure most of you must already know about them. What you might not know is that this was not an ordinary attack. There was a mix-up that unfortunately ended up with the loss of one of Meifu's most high standing individuals. Because of the importance of this issue, EnmaDiao has sent a team to help us investigate the matter and find the people responsible for it. Let me introduce to you the head prosecutor from JoOhCho's judicial division, Mr. Isorou Masaki." He motioned to the man sitting at his left who shook his head and stood up.  
  
Hisoka turned to observe the man. He looked about fifty, which didn't mean anything when you were a supernatural beings. He had dark gray hair that had turned white behind his ears and was combed meticulously into place. Hisoka also noticed that the man was tall and was wearing an expensive, neatly ironed suit, which, with the combination of him standing almost at attention, gave him the look of a serious businessman. But perhaps the most noticeable thing about him were his eyes. They gave Hisoka an unsettling feeling, and it couldn't be just because they were gray like Muraki's. They had a piercing, hawk-like look that made anyone uncomfortable to be the subject of their gaze.  
  
The man in question surveyed the room for a minute or so before starting to speak in a polite yet strong tone. "Good day, everyone. My name is Isorou Masaki, from JoOhCho's judicial bureau. I am here to investigate the summoning and subsequent death of a Silent Spirit. Let me start this meeting with a question." He went silent for a second and in a flash, all politeness was gone from his face to be replaced by a stern and serious look. "In fact, it is the most important question to be asked: who was the shinigami that killed the spirit?"  
  
Hisoka felt his blood freeze. The deep resonating voice of the prosecutor was so frighteningly cold it almost sounded like EnmaDiao himself was talking through him. He saw Tsuzuki look up and twitch, half opening his mouth to say something. Tatsumi's hand was instantly on his arm and he said something in his ear that made the violet-eyed man settle down. Tatsumi then turned to the stranger and his glasses flashed before he started to speak.  
  
"Unfortunately, Mr. Isorou, we don't know who the killer is. None of us were present when it happened and the victims are too shocked to remember anything."  
  
Hisoka's jaw hit the floor. How? What? Tatsumi was straight out lying to a representative of EnmaDiao? In front of the entire office? And he didn't even blink when he did that. This day must really be recorded in history.  
  
The prosecutor turned to Tatsumi and said, "You mean to tell me, Mr. Tatsumi Seiichirou, that there is a renegade shinigami in your department that goes around killing superior creatures without anyone even knowing about him?"  
  
Tatsumi pushed his glasses up his nose and said, " We are not talking about a criminal here, Mr. Isorou. I must remind you that the Silent Spirit that entered the Shokan division premises was attacking a group of innocent children at the hospital. Such violent behavior is bound to be countered with equal vehemence. The 'renegade' shinigami, as you like to call him, was only trying to defend the kids from getting injured."  
  
"Yes, but the Spirit was conjured from its sleep. And the reason was, again, some mishap that happened at the Shokan division. It was your fault that the Spirit was there to begin with. That, in itself, is an unspeakable crime."  
  
Everyone was mute after that. The last words were shouted at the audience in that voice that made Hisoka want to run and hide under the table. Even Tatsumi appeared in shock. The gray-haired prosecutor, seemingly enjoying the effect of his outburst, walked around the table and stood on the other side. Facing his audience, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the table, his eyes falling shut for a moment before he started speaking again.  
  
"You say you don't know who the murderous shinigami is?"  
  
Tsuzuki flinched at the word 'murderous' and Tatsumi had to comfort him again.  
  
"I'm talking to you Mr. Tatsumi Seiichirou." Isorou's voice rang with impatience.  
  
Tatsumi's slowly turned his attention back to the prosecutor with a look of annoyance on his face. The air in the room crackled with power as the two men glared at each other vehemently. Everyone looked like they had swallowed a handful of cotton balls and were now choking on it. Finally, Tatsumi ended the staring match, saying, " I heard you perfectly, Mr. Isorou, and I repeat, no one knows who the unfortunate shinigami was, even if his only error was to defend a group of frightened children."  
  
Isorou smirked. "And so far, you have no idea about the source of the evil vibration that had disturbed the spirit's meditation and drawn it here?"  
  
Tatsumi ground his teeth together although his voice stayed neutral. "I'm afraid not. But that was only reported this morning; we barely had time to do any investigation before the spirit showed up. You can't hold us accountable for that."  
  
"No, but something tells me you are not giving me the entire truth." Isorou's voice was calm and for some reason, that sounded even more disturbing than his angry shouts. Hisoka shrunk back in his seat even as he looked around the room to see the others' reactions. Konoe had sunk deep behind the table at the head of the room and was staring at the surface like an archeologist examining a rare artifact. Watari, sitting next to Hisoka, was calm, but Hisoka could see him clenching and unclenching his fists under the table in his lap. Terazuma and Wakaba were behind him and he didn't have the courage to turn around and see how they were faring. Tsuzuki was shaking, his eyes tightly closed, and it was apparent that he was trying hard to suppress his reaction. And Tatsumi, the only man brave enough not to shrink back or be scared, was still involved in the pissing contest with the accuser. Hisoka admired him for his courage. But then, this was Tatsumi, the pillar of strength and apprehension in the office. He didn't know about Isorou's powers, but the way the man wielded his authority like a whip suggested that he saw himself up there with Enma-sama or at least very close.  
  
"Very well then." Isorou drew a deep breath and said, "Now that no one knows what is going on here, or who's at fault with what, I shall pass judgment myself. A respectable spirit god from the Silent Temple was murdered and someone has to be held accountable for and made an example of. If no one is guilty here, then everyone is. And so," he paused for dramatic effect, "I pass judgment for the entire Shokan division to be obliterated."  
  
It was like someone had dropped a paralyzing spell on the crowd. Everyone just froze. Hisoka looked up at their chief, who looked like a deer caught in headlights (well, maybe more like a goat.) Konoe opened his mouth, but it took a few tries before a sound came out. "Isorou-san, you cannot possibly be serious about this." And he was sweating.  
  
Isorou didn't turn. He stood facing the crowd with his arms folded on his chest and said, "I am serious about the verdict, Konoe-sama. A department that can't tell what is going on with its employees and has shinigami romping around with their powers gone astray doesn't deserve to exist. We already have enough staff to replace you all." His smirk was almost vicious when he turned to gather his things from the table. "You should all go and pack. I'll inform Enma-sama that your time as shinigami has ended and you'll be prepared to face his judgment."  
  
"Wait."  
  
All heads turned to Tsuzuki at the sound of his call He had been partially hidden behind Tatsumi most of the time, but now he was sitting straight, looking at his folded hands on the table.  
  
"Yes?" Isorou said almost lecherously as he turned and looked at the shinigami.  
  
Tsuzuki gulped, still looking down. "Please, don't punish the others. It was I who killed the spirit." He looked up with sad, desolate eyes. "Please, I'm the guilty person. I'm the one who should be punished."  
  
"Tsuzuki-san!!!" Tatsumi wildly snapped at him.  
  
Isorou completely ignored the secretary, fixing his narrowed gaze on Tsuzuki instead, like a panther that has finally spotted his prey.  
  
"So it was you. What is your name, shinigami?"  
  
"Tsuzuki..Tsuzuki Asato, sir." Tsuzuki's voice trembled a bit at the end.  
  
The smirk had returned to Isorou's face and Hisoka thought that it was the most disturbing thing he had seen next to Muraki's smile. In fact, the expression on the man's face almost resembled Muraki's, or was it because Hisoka had begun to hate this man as much as he hated the doctor.  
  
Isorou walked closer to Tsuzuki and stood over him. "How long have you been working here, Asato?" he asked.  
  
Tsuzuki gulped. The use of his first name felt like an added blow. "Seven...seventy years or so."  
  
"That is a long time. I would assume you had heard about the spirits of the Silent Temple during that time, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes." Tsuzuki whispered. He seemed to wither with every word. Hisoka felt his heart clench.  
  
"So you knew what you were dealing with when you attacked that spirit outside the hospital."  
  
"Yes." Another whisper.  
  
"Tsuzuki-san! What are you talking about? I order you to be quiet, right now." Tatsumi spoke again but just like last time, he was ignored by both parties.  
  
Isorou walked back to his table and leaned against it, folding his arms once again. "So I guess it is settled. This shinigami is the one who is guilty and must be punished. That wasn't too hard now, was it?"  
  
Hisoka wanted to scream, but his voice was caught in the coils of his throat. From what he could sense from the rest of the room, everyone else looked to be in the same state, except for Tatsumi who was practically boiling like a pot.  
  
"Do you command any shikigamis?" Isorou's voice cut through the tension like a knife wielded by an ignorant child.  
  
Tsuzuki jumped. "Huh? Um, yeah, I do."  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Are you deaf? I asked how many shikigamis do you command?"  
  
"T..twelve." Tsuzuki answered quietly.  
  
Isorou's eyes widened for a second. Then, "Which one was involved in the attack?"  
  
Tsuzuki shivered and looked down once again. "No one," he replied, chewing his lower lip. "I didn't summon any. I didn't want to get them involved."  
  
Isorou bristled. "You mean to tell me that you managed to kill a spirit from the high orders with only your bare hands?"  
  
Tsuzuki fidgeted. "Not with my hands, I used my..inner powers." He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands.  
  
"Demonic powers." Isorou affirmed. "You are the demon shinigami. Now I remember."  
  
"Stop it." The words were out of Hisoka's mouth before he could stop himself. For a split second Isorou's eyes met his and he felt icicle form down his spine before the other man ignored him just as he had Tatsumi. But the simple blink was enough for Hisoka to see something deep and dangerous inside the man's mind.  
  
Tsuzuki was quaking. Tatsumi got to him immediately and wrapped his arms protectively around him. He turned his angry glare toward Isorou and his voice almost hitched when he spoke. "Leave him alone. He was only defending the children. How many time do we have to tell you that? Stop tormenting him."  
  
"It's in your best interest, Tatsumi-san, not to interfere with the investigation. Now, Asato," he turned his attention back to Tsuzuki, "it's time for me to pass judgment on you and you know what that means. However, since you were brave enough to come out yourself I will be lenient with you. You will not be punished by death, but you are sentenced to endure the ordeal. Enma's aides will soon be here to take you."  
  
As if on cue, the doors opened and a group of strangely shrouded beings entered the room to gather behind Isorou. Hisoka felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on its ends at the sight of them. Phantom-like creature covered in semi-translucent robes from head to toe, their faces hidden behind their hoods so that all that could be seen of it was their glowing eyes. They where the creatures from his dream, and as they went to grab Tsuzuki by his arms and lift him from his seat, he felt a sense of déjà vu coming all over him.  
  
Tsuzuki was almost pliant as he was carried to where Isorou stood in the front of the room. Isorou's predatory look had not changed. He racked the shinigami up and down like a hungry wolf and when Tsuzuki looked away, still in the clutches of the shadowy guards, Isorou grabbed his chin and pierced him with his glare. "You will not die, little shinigami. But I promise you will suffer for what you've done." There was a hint of enjoyment in his voice and Tsuzuki whimpered as he tightened his grip. Hisoka fisted his hands, barely restraining himself from attacking the man.  
  
Tatsumi wasn't as reserved. Shadows lashed from all sides of the room at the group surrounding Tsuzuki. The yurei whined as they were whisked away by the shadows, leaving Tsuzuki alone. Still, the shadows faltered as they reached for Isorou, the man's aura holding them back like melting snow as he stood there with closed eyes. "You are pathetic, Tatsumi-san," he muttered before opening his eyes and stretching his hand toward the shadow player. A moment passed before Tatsumi suddenly went down with a choked cry, clutching his sides in apparent pain. Isorou chuckled. Tsuzuki ran to Tatsumi's side, holding him as he went through the bouts of pain.  
  
"Please, stop this." Tsuzuki pleaded as he looked up with his expressive purple eyes. "Let him go. I'll come with you."  
  
Tatsumi grabbed his friend's shoulder and gasped, "Tsu..zuki-san. Don't.."  
  
Isorou walked toward the two huddled on the floor. "If you continue this pathetic show of defiance I will increase his sentence." He pointed at Tsuzuki who was still looking at him beseechingly. "For every assault you direct at the court your guilty friend here gets an extra punishment in return. How is that? Now, lets see what you've got."  
  
Tatsumi stared up at the man with all the hate he had inside radiating from his eyes. Still, the threat seemed to have taken its effect as the menacing shadows slowly came down to their resting place. The spikes of pain raking Tatsumi's body died with that as well and he took a deep breath. A hand came to touch his face and he turned to find amethyst orbs looking at him with deep concern. "Tatsumi-san, are you ok?" Tsuzuki asked adoringly.  
  
"I'm fine. Tsuzuki-san, don't be afraid. I promise we will correct this mistake immediately."  
  
Tsuzuki smiled, his eyes shining. "I am not afraid. It's just-" He was cut off when hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him off the floor and away from Tatsumi.  
  
"We've wasted enough time here. We shall go now." Isorou turned to leave and mentioned to the yurei holding Tsuzuki to follow him.  
  
Hisoka finally recovered from his shock and before he had time to think and get scared again, he started running after them. They were outside the building when he finally caught up with the group. He knew he had no chance against Isorou, but he simply couldn't let them take Tsuzuki. It was unacceptable.  
  
"Wait." He yelled and immediately backed away as he saw Isorou stop in place. He felt his legs shaking but stood his ground as he waited for what was to come, be it unbearable pain or simply that chilling, repulsive look from the man.  
  
"Yes?" Isorou turned and assessed the speaker. "You had something to say, little kid?"  
  
"I am his partner," Hisoka had to swallow before continuing, "I want to know where you are taking him." His eyes met Tsuzuki's and the worried expressions on both their faces clashed together.  
  
Isorou shrugged nonchalantly. "Not too far. Just over there." He pointed at a small hill on the other side of the sakura trees across from the main building. He and Tsuzuki had walked there a few times before; it was the best spot for watching sunrise and sunset. Hisoka looked confused.  
  
Isorou's eyes had a glint in them when he looked back at him. "I am very displeased with your department and so I intend to make an example of him so that the rest of you lawless shinigamis learn the lesson and never cross the line."  
  
He turned to go. Hisoka couldn't stop himself from running after them, mindless of the others that were behind him. "What do you mean? What are you planning to do?"  
  
"Stay back, kid. Don't let me repeat myself." Isorou warned. Hisoka was grabbed from behind by Watari who folded his arms around him. He struggled fruitlessly against the embrace, never leaving his eyes from Tsuzuki who was dragged by the phantoms towards the top of the hill.  
  
"Be quiet, Bon." Watari whispered in his ear, "lets see what they'll do. I'm sure we will find a way to help him." Despite his words, the emotions Hisoka was picking up from the scientist were far from confident. He, just as Hisoka, knew perfectly how hopeless the situation was. At least, it didn't look like they were planning to take Tsuzuki away. That in itself was a blessing, for as long as they could see him, they might be able to do something for him.  
  
Finally the small group reached the top of the hill. Isorou motioned to the hooded helpers to bring Tsuzuki to a spot he was pointing at on the ground. Tsuzuki didn't resist much as they dragged him to that spot and pushed him onto his knees. Hisoka, Watari and the rest of the shinigamis gathered close by, watching the procedure quietly.  
  
As soon as Tsuzuki's knees hit the ground Isorou started chanting under his breath and two flagpoles emerged from the earth on either side of the kneeling shinigami. The poles were plain and almost ten feet tall. Tsuzuki looked at them apprehensively but he had no time to do much else as, with more chanting, a strand of barbed wire appeared out of thin air and wound itself around his body, underneath his clothes. The ends of the wire twisted around each of his arms and pulled his body tight, forcing him into a crucified position as each end finally attached itself to the poles on either side. Tsuzuki screamed when he felt the barbs cut into his skin as the wire tightened, his breath hitching as his arms were mercilessly pulled to the sides and above, leaving him hanging, head bent and on his knees, between the two poles.  
  
Isorou watched the outcome of his magic detachedly. He was as unfazed by the gasps and cries that came from the audience a few feet behind him. These people seemed to care quite a bit for this particular shinigami but none of that was of his concern. Justice had to be done.  
  
After the initial stress, the shinigami appeared to have settled down, only his heavy breathing and the quivering of his muscles an indication of the agony he was in. The pricks of the barbs in his skin had started to draw blood, but it wasn't yet enough to stain his clothes. That would come later, Isorou thought, and it would be a worthwhile display for his friends who now only seemed to feel sorry for him instead of taking an example. But not even that was the point, the prosecutor contemplated as he observed the man in front of him. The real question was, how long the man himself would last the ordeal before he would break. An issue that yet had to stay hidden from the rest of the crowd.  
  
A cry from behind drew his attention at that point. It was that boy again. The one with blond hair. Somehow, he had freed himself from the clutched of the other blond and was running towards the prisoner. Isorou silently made a sign to the yurei and they rushed to block the boy's way. The teenager started to scream, fighting with all his strength against the claws that were restraining him. Isorou started to walk towards them when the longhaired one with the glasses got there first and started to pull the young shinigami back. Isorou came to stand in front of them just as the older man succeeded in his effort and was calming the boy down with reassuring words. They both looked up, one worriedly, the other with anger in his eyes. Isorou regarded the seething boy for a minute before drawing his hand back and hitting him square in the face. The boy whimpered as he fell to the ground while the man holding him shrieked like a girl. Isorou ignored him. He towered over the fallen boy and said, "I told you once to stay out of this business. This is the second warning you get. You will stay away from the convict until I tell you otherwise. If you disobey my orders again there will be consequences." He then turned to the rest of them, his voice as cold and imposing as it had been before, "That goes for all. You will not communicate with or approach the prisoner in any way. He has to stay there for the appointed time determined only by me. No food or drink or anything else is to be given to him. Any infringement of this rule will be confronted severely by the court. My associates will stay here and guard the prisoner to make sure of that." He looked back and the phantoms stood in attention as if to emphasize his point.  
  
He smiled and walked back to where his prisoner was, turning to face the shaken audience with satisfaction. "Let this be a lesson to those who think they can break EnmaDiao's law and get away with it. This is what happens to outlaw shinigamis who lose control over their powers." He stopped and enjoyed the pitiful, frightened looks directed at the condemned man. His point was made and now, it was time for him to leave.  
  
Konoe was among the crowd when he saw Isorou coming up to him." I will stay here for the duration of the punishment. Please show me your guest accommodations." Konoe only nodded, his eyes never leaving Tsuzuki. Soon they were all walking down the hill. Watari reached for Hisoka who had stayed on the ground where Isorou had left him. Watari's heart clenched upon seeing the handprint marking the delicate cheek and the tears on his face as he helped the boy rise to his feet.  
  
"It is ok, Bon. C'mon, lets go home."  
  
"Home?" Hisoka looked at him with burning wet eyes. "How can you say that? You think we can leave him behind like that? After all he's been through?"  
  
Watari put a protective arm around Hisoka's shoulder that was as much for comfort as it was to secretly restrain the boy from running to his partner. "Didn't you hear what he said? He would hurt Tsuzuki more if we do anything against him. We don't want him to do that now, do we?"  
  
"But-" Hisoka hiccupped, anguished.  
  
"Lets leave it for today. I'm sure we can come up with something tomorrow; perhaps reason with the guy. Make him understand. They are not going anywhere anyway."  
  
Hisoka hiccupped again and nodded his head. Watari guided him toward the path that lead to JuOhCho's main building but before they could go, Hisoka turned and looked back at where Tsuzuki was kneeling in the circle of his fearsome guards. "Tsuzuki..." The boy whispered quietly and Watari felt his heart ache. Tsuzuki wasn't looking at them. In fact, he didn't even look as if he was conscious. His head was hanging between his outstretched arms and his brown hair was falling over his face. The light was fading behind the sakura trees and already, Watari could see the lengthening shadows of the two poles marking the spot of his friend's ordeal. With a sigh, the scientist turned away, pulling a boy with shaking legs with him. They would help Tsuzuki; Watari kept saying that to himself. They would work together and get him out of this mess. They just had to wait for the right time. Wait and pray to the gods that Tsuzuki, too, would be strong enough to endure this trial.  
  
tbc  
  
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A/N: Wow, was that a long chapter. Took me forever to finish that. Hope you liked it. This is where things finally get angsty, really angsty.  
  
Now, I won't say that I would stop writing if I don't get reviews. I'm just saying I will be much more motivated to do faster updates if people encourage me. If you like to see where this goes sooner, please take a few minutes and let me know what you thought about it. It would do wonders in the hours I have to spend to write the next chapter :) 


	5. The Trial : Phase 1

God, the monster that is chapter five is finally here. It took me forever to write this. Thanks to all who reviewed chapter 4, sent nice emails and basically are still following this story. You are the reason I still have breath to go on. 

Interesting note, I think Watari might have slipped one of his potions into my drink or something. I keep putting him center stage here.

-----------------

The Trial – Chapter Five

Aspirin was an ingenious invention yet still not quite there. Watari made a mental note to do some research on the drug later on to see if he could increase its effects. For now, however, he had to make do with the original formula as he walked around Tatsumi's office passing pills to different individuals in need. There would be plenty of time for pleasant lab work later. His main duty now was playing doctor to the whole office and handing out pills to a crew of traumatized coworkers. There were quite a few of them too so the bottle was getting rapidly empty.

They had all gathered in Tatsumi's office. Not just because it was the most organized office in Enmacho with the largest number of comfortable furniture, but because Tatsumi himself had retreated there. Even beaten and hurt the secretary was a beacon of strength for the rest of them, the crutch they could lean on when things got too rough. It didn't matter that Tatsumi himself was lying on a couch with his head covered by his arm. Everyone who had experienced the horrible proceedings that afternoon had followed him to the room, even Konoe-kacho who was supposedly still in charge. Perhaps it was out of a false sense of protection too. The secretary had been the only one to stand up against the fearsome Isorou and it only made sense that the weaker ones would reflexively seek the shelter of his wings.

Watari looked around to see if everyone was served their painkillers. He had been smart enough to run to the lab and get them before rushing to Tatsumi's office, initially only to give some to the secretary who seemed to have been done for badly by the prosecutor. He hadn't expected to face a crowd of needy people. Wakaba was there, sitting on an easy chair holding her not-quite-healed ankle in her hand with Terazuma fuming over her head. He, of course, was pissed because he couldn't do anything to help her without risking to unleash his inner beast. Hisoka was sitting on the floor in a corner and leaning against the wall. The GuShoShins were watching over him (Watari had left the boy in their care before going after the aspirin) And Konoe was behind the desk, wearing the same shocked look he had during the trial and now seemingly trying to uncover the hidden mysteries of Tatsumi's desk top by outstaring it. Tatsumi himself was lying flat on his couch, one arm flung over his eyes, the other dangling from the side of the seat. He wasn't in a good mood at all. Watari hesitated a bit before approaching him with a glass of water and two little white pills.

"Tatsumi-san, I've got some medicine here… you wanna take them?"

The man didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge his presence. Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected. Watari rolled his eyes and quietly placed the water and the pills on a small table next to the couch. He then walked over to Hisoka who was curled up onto himself on the floor. The elder GuShoShin was quietly talking to him but the boy was so pale and out of it, the scientist doubted he heard a word. Poor Hisoka, he thought. This must be especially painful for him. With his strong empathy, he would not only have to endure his own grief, but also feel the thoughts and worries of the rest of the office. Sadly there wasn't anything Watari could do for him. Konoe had made the right decision to keep him away from the others and maybe that was what Watari should do too even though, looking at the small figure huddled by the wall, it seemed almost impossible. And what if it was the wrong choice? What if sharing his pain with the others was actually good for the empath? Konoe certainly wasn't objecting to the boy being in the room and Watari who didn't claim to be an expert in empath psychology didn't know any better so he decided to let it be.

Speaking of the chief, the blond turned and looked at him sitting at the desk. Konoe seemed to be completely absorbed in his own world. He was looking at the desktop but occasionally made abrupt hand movements and muttered something under his breath like he was berating himself. Watari looked down at the last of the aspirin pills left in his bottle and shook his head. It wouldn't help to drug up the chief any more; he already looked quite stoned. 

His eyes traveled to the window and the darkening sky outside. There was someone else...someone out there that needed the painkillers badly. Watari's chest tightened at the thought. How much pain must he be in right now? How frightened must he be after the way he was treated by those bastards? He remembered, with painful clarity, the poles and the barbed wire that had curled around Tsuzuki's body making him grit his teeth to suppress his scream. He remembered crimson stains on white, crisp cloth before he had to drag Hisoka away lest the boy did something to make things worse. Poor Tsuzuki, how he must have felt. Watari wasn't even sure his friend was aware of anything. And they had left him there. Cold, lonely and in pain. Was that really the right thing to do?

He heard a moan form behind and looked over his shoulder. He saw Hisoka hugging himself tightly and the elder GuShoShin looking up at him with daggers in his eyes. 'Oh crap!' he thought, realizing what he'd done. Hisoka was a powerful empath and in a situation like this, when their thoughts and feelings were so in sync, Watari's moping had seeped out into him to make his own pain ten times worse. He said a quiet 'oops' and reminded himself to be more careful around the empath and have a better reign over his emotions. In any case, it was time to check on another patient.

Watari crouched down next to Hisoka and lifted the boy's chin. Jadeite eyes opened to regard him with a tired, almost resigned, expression. The blond boy had dark circles under his eyes and lines of pain were etched into his face. His look was pained and the tears still had to dry on his flushed cheeks. Had he been weeping all this time? Watari straightened and walked to the water cooler in one corner of the office to get him some water. Returning to the boy's side, he handed him a cup. Hisoka looked at it for a while before visibly pushing himself to take it. He sipped a little bit as if obliged, then put the cup aside folding into himself once again.

"Hisoka!" Watari called gently.

"Leave me alone, please," the boy replied. 

"You will get a backache if you keep sitting in that position for long."

"Yeah," the boy smirked, "and I bet Tsuzuki gets one too if he keeps *his* position out there for too long. But I forget, starving to death and bleeding dry will finish him sooner anyway. Then again, who cares about that, ne?"

Everyone except Tatsumi looked at them. Watari bit his lip. Not that he hadn't seen it coming. Sooner or later someone would have brought up the subject on everyone's mind. Hisoka's words had broken the string that had kept the shaky silence intact and now, Watari knew, what would follow was nothing short of a flood.

Wakaba spoke first.

"Poor, Tsuzuki-kun. He looked so lonely and scared when we left him. I think what we did was mean, wasn't it?

"We couldn't have done anything." Terazuma countered sourly.

Wakaba looked up at him. "But we could have talked to Isurou-sama. I'm sure if we'd reasoned with him-"

"Hah, reasoned with that evil son of a hellfire demon? I'm certain he would've taken a delighted in making more barbed wire scarecrows in front of the office..."

"Terazuma-san!!" Wakaba scolded, steeling glances toward Hisoka and Tatsumi who could obviously hear every word.

"Please, let's not worsen the nerves," one of the GuShoShin pleaded, "I'm sure Konoe-sama has a plan to rescue Tsuzuki-san. Don't you, Konoe-sama?" All heads turned to the chief expectantly.

Konoe looked up as if waking up from a dream. He gaped around for a few seconds before realizing he was expected to speak. Rubbing his forehead he said, "Aa? Well, to tell the truth, I am as shocked as you are. I never thought it would come to this. We...we weren't even supposed to have a court. Enma-sama told me that he was sending a representative to discuss the matter of the disturbance of the spirits. I never thought they would be so angry with us that they would –"

"They have no right." 

The remark came from the couch. Tatsumi sat up, running a hand through his hair before looking up at the others. The sight of his blood-shot eyes took everyone by surprise. "They have no right." He repeated under his breath before abruptly standing up and starting to walk towards the door like a robot that had just been switched on. Everyone looked in alarm as the secretary, who had been completely uninvolved a minute ago, strode with determined, hurried steps as if going after a thief that had just exited the room.

Watari gave himself a mental shove and ran after him. He caught him in the hall, right as he stepped outside, and grabbed his arm from behind.

"Tatsumi-san, where're you going?"

Tatsumi was angry, yet he wasn't sure whom exactly he was angry with. He yanked his arm out of Watari's grasp and said, " I have to see someone."

'Gods, not that again.' Images of Tatsumi's fight with Isorou danced in Watari's head. He shook it rapidly trying to dispel them and thought about what to do next. 

Tatsumi was walking again. Watari jumped and grabbed his arm once more, the only thing he could think of without having to shoot his brains out.

"Tatsumi-san, wait for God's sake. Who do you want to see?" Watari's worried voice finally cut through Tatsumi's cobwebbed mind and he turned to look at the scientist. His eyes, however, were blazing.

"Do I have to explain myself to you?" The tone was nothing like the Tatsumi they all knew. True the real Tatsumi had had his pissy moments sometimes, but nothing like this cold, unsettling attitude he was showing right now. Watari looked back at the others who had gathered by the door. Real Tatsumi or whacked, the secretary was a scary sight to behold when ticked off. Seeing that he would not likely get any help from the crowd, he gathered all his wits and turned back to face the man. "You are not going to end up injured again." He said as he rattled the bottle of aspirin in his hand trying to pull something out of his genki reserves to lighten the mood. " I haven't left enough of these to heal your butt if Isorou ends up kicking it again. I suggest you follow the advice that says prevention over cure" He winked, not exactly sure what he was doing but knowing that he was sick and tired of being afraid.

He succeeded and Tatsumi didn't kill him. He just looked to the side and said, "I'm not going to see Isorou." almost spitting out the name.

Watari's ears perked up."Then who-"

"EnmaDiao."

"Whaaaa!" All who were listening either went chibi, twitched or popped googly eyes.

Once again, Watari was the one to recover first. He decided it was high time he smacked some sense into his suddenly-gone-coo coo friend. "Are you out of your mind?" he asked. "You think EnmaDiao is the school principle you can run to and cry about a nose-bleed you got from a bully?"

Tatsumi turned slowly to him, perfectly showing that he was not at all amused by his humor. " I know he is the only person who can help Tsuzuki-san. And that is enough for me."

"But Enma-sama only speaks with kacho, and only with appointment." GuShosShin whined from the door in an attempt to be helpful.

 "I don't care," Tatsumi said without taking his eyes off Watari.

Watari huffed. "Don't you get it? You *can't*go to EnmaDiao. It is not possible. He-hmmpf..."

His collar was seized by two strong hands and he was shoved against the wall in the next second.

"Didn't you hear what I said Watari Yutaka? I said: I. Don't. Care." Tatsumi's eyes flashed mad as he pressed Watari further into the wall. 

"Stop it. Stop it right now."

They both turned to see Hisoka charging at them and grabbing Tatsumi's sleeve in an effort to pry it away from Watari's coat. Both men looked at him in shock and he immediately let go, backing off in the middle of the hall and gaping at them with wide, anguished eyes. He screamed, "Stop it. It hurts. You are making it hurt more." Tatsumi's hands immediately fell from Watari's coat and he looked guiltily at the boy. Slowly he walked toward him, intent on giving him comfort. He had barely touched the boy when Hisoka immediately jumped and slapped his outstretched hand. The empath backed against the wall, keeping accusing eyes on the secretary and struggling to get enough air into his lungs to speak." Y- you. Don't touch me. Your thoughts...Y-you think too much. It...it hurts." Tatsumi was speechless. Without thinking he reached to touch Hisoka again. The boy shrieked. "I said stay back. Didn't you hear me? Stop it, please, stop it. It hurts me. Stop yelling h-his na-me in m-my head."  He bent over and grabbed his head, crying hysterically as he repeated over and over again. "Tsuzuki..."

Tatsumi understood. His walls were non-existent and he hadn't even noticed it. Poor Hisoka. He turned to the GuShoShin with a serious expression on his face. "Take him out. Get him to a place where he can rest and be away from people." He concentrated as hard as he could and succeeded in bringing up his shields partially. Then he turned to Hisoka. "Kurosaki-kun," he said. "I am very sorry about this. Please go with the GuShoShin and get some rest." Hisoka nodded and flinched when he saw Tatsumi reaching for him again. Tatsumi's eyes darkened and he let his hand fall to his side. He watched the librarians escort the troubled boy outside, then turned and shot a brief look at Watari before starting to walk away. 

"Where are you going?" Watari yelled from behind him. He clenched his fist into a ball and restrained himself from attacking the scientist.

"To see someone."

"Who?"

He had to finish this right now or it would never end. He turned.

"Enma is unreachable? That's fine. But there is another powerful being who cares for Tsuzuki-san as much as I do. I will talk to him."

"The Earl..." Wakaba said with an invisible light bulb popping over her head.

"You still need an appointment. They won't let you in like this." Watari insisted.

"I will break down the door if need be."

"The Earl will kill you for that."

Tatsumi was already by the door at this point. He didn't respond.

Watari felt frustration rise inside him like a well. Tsuzuki was bound and in pain and Hisoka was a total mess. He didn't want to see Tatsumi break apart too. He too was all for saving his purple-eyed friend but didn't think Tatsumi was in any shape to do that.

He decided to try out his last shot.

"They will make you pay for the damage. They will make you pay it out of your own pocket."

Tatsumi stopped. Watari held his breath. Had it worked? Slowly the secretary turned, his hand on the door handle and his posture more confident than ever.

"You know what Watari-san? Sometimes I think you are a bit thick in the head. I can't believe you haven't yet realized what is important and what is not?"

Watari tried to say something but words were rapidly failing him. Tatsumi had that look in his eyes again. He heard the secretary fill the silence before his efforts to speak got him anywhere. "Tsuzuki-san is hurt. You hear that, Watari? That is all that matters right now. Repeat that to yourself a million times before you speak again." And with that he left, crushing all of Watari's hopes of saving his sanity and his hide. 

---------------------

Pain. That was all that filled his world. Pain and a bone-deep tiredness that gnawed at his being.

How long had he been there? He had lost track of time, only remembering that it was still light when they had dragged him outside and that sometime after, it had gotten dark. Darkness engulfed him, seeped into him, made him feel lost. He knew he was completely alone. Even his ethereal guards were gone, drifted most likely to a more comfortable place where ghosts went for sleep. He was the only one here, a speck in the universe of darkness with only pain as his companion.

His knees were cramping from staying in a kneeling position for so long. His arms were hurting too, being stretched out and held to his sides to suffer the weight of his upper body. He had to make sure he kept a balance between hanging from his arms and resting on his knees so that neither would have to bear too much weight for too long. It wasn't an easy task, especially with the cord running over his body and digging its cruel, spiky teeth into his flesh. Tsuzuki had experienced many injuries throughout his life, both as a shinigami and a mortal. Yet nothing compared to the incredible agony he was feeling right now. Isorou must have put a curse on the wire, he thought, because he could feel the strands tightening around his limbs ever so often as if they were alive. Like the thorny tentacles of a demon squeezing his wounds to suck as much of his blood as it was possible. And what's worse, his shinigami body was working on overdrive trying to heal the pinpricks that were kept open by the barbs, adding to his pain with the constant battle waging between his healing powers and the viciously digging spikes.

And through it all, he was alone.

Maybe it was better this way, he thought as he lifted his eyes to the sky. He had seen how the others had worried about him. He winced when Isorou had cuffed Hisoka on the head. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to them to hurt on his account. He was the guilty one and the only one who had to suffer the consequences. They were just too kind and caring and they ended up getting hurt because of him. He remembered Tatsumi who had stood up against Isorou and taken his blows. Poor Tatsumi. Tsuzuki only hoped that he was fine and that his injuries weren't too bad. He gasped as his knees gave way a little and the pricks went deeper into his arms. A fresh wave of pain washed over his body and his eyes filled with tears. Instinctively, he tried to reach with his hand to wipe them away only to be reminded that his hands were tied. He let his head fall forward and watched as the tears dripped onto the ground, creating small blotched on the fresh earth. How long has it been? It wasn't the first time that he'd done this, letting his tears fall to the ground so that they won't stain his cheeks. He didn't want the other to see him crying. In fact, he didn't want them to see him at all even though the loneliness was threatening to crush him.  

Still, his mind kept going back to them. What was Hisoka doing right now? I hope they are keeping him as far away from that man as possible. I don't want him to hurt Hisoka again. He's already suffered enough at Muraki's hand; he doesn't deserve any more pain. Hope his curse marks don't bother him too much tonight. That would be very bad cause I won't be there to help him. I wonder if Tatsumi would try to confront Isorou again. I wish he wouldn't. They are both very powerful, and I know what Tatsumi's like when he gets angry. And Isorou would definitely hurt him, judging by what he did before. I think he enjoys it too. Why does he hate us so much? He looked like he really wanted to close down the whole division. What a horrible thing, and it would've been all my fault. I still can't believe Tatsumi told me to be quiet after that. Did he really expect me to sit there and watch while Isorou made everyone lose all they had? I couldn't do that. I disobeyed Tatsumi-san and I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I'm such a bad subordinate but I couldn't keep still when he was threatening to take it out on the others. It wasn't their fault, why should they have to pay for it, especially after I made sure that no one else would get involved, not even the shikigamis.

_'Demonic powers. You are the demon shinigami. Now I remember.'_

The demon shinigami. Isorou's words had struck Tsuzuki deeper and more cruelly than any blows ever could. 

Tsuzuki bit his lip. How had Isorou known? Was his reputation that far reaching? It must have been something inside him. Something that made people see right through his carefully woven visage. That evil thing he desperately tried to hide but lurked its head whenever it got the chance to remind him what a contemptible creature he was. The thought caused Tsuzuki's body to shudder and the spikes drew fresh blood from his wounds. He welcomed the pain this time. Let is wash over me, let it consume me, pierce me with its claws and break me with its coils. It's all a creature like me deserves. A creature so vile and unwanted that he had to be put on display when paying for his sins so that everyone would see where he really belonged.

"He is brooding again."

The voice came from somewhere close by. Tsuzuki lifted his head and peered around to see who was speaking but there was no one there. He decided that it must have been part of his imagination.

"I bet he's wondering who screwed him over like this."

Again. A different one, and coming from a slightly different angle. He was sure he had *heard* it this time but still couldn't figure out where it had come from. He straightened a bit and listened more carefully.

"Nah, I'm sure he's blaming himself. That's how this one is."

It came from above his head. Tsuzuki turned his neck as best as he could and looked up. The sky was slowly getting lighter and he could see the top of the two poles that made up the pillars of his scaffold. He saw two small birds sitting on the tip of each pole. They were owls. Tsuzuki wasn't sure what to make of it. Could normal owls talk? He had seen 003 utter some words here and there, but who knew what sort of weird experiments Watari did on that poor thing? Could these too be a pair of Watari's guinea pigs? 

"He doesn't know why he's here," the bird sitting on the right said. With the sky getting brighter he could see that it was a white owl.

"Yeah, I know," the bird on the left - a brownish owl with patchy black feathers on its chest - said. "If he did, he might have thought twice before getting himself into trouble."

"He did kill the spirit, you know. I saw it with my own eyes."

"True, but he wasn't responsible for the summoning."

Tsuzuki's neck began to ache and he was forced to drop his head. In that position, he no longer could see the birds but he could hear every word they said. He still couldn't figure out why they were there.

"You mean he wasn't the one who awakened the spirit from its slumber?"

"Nope, that was entirely someone else's fault."

"Do you know who?"

"Yeah, 'course I do."

"Oh great, tell me."

Sound of feathers ruffling. The other bird was taking her sweet time, not caring that her white feathered companion and the subject of their conversation were both waiting for her to spill the beans.

"Well, it's not for no reason they call me the Gossip Queen."

"Oh, come on sister, spit it out. We…I'm dying to know."

"Ok. Here it goes. Remember those children at the hospital?"

"Uh-huh. The ones that that guy/girl shinigami team brought with them?"

"Exactly. Those. Now one of them was this nosy little girl who couldn't stay in her room."

"Uh-huh. Keep going."

"Soooo, one day, when the shinigamis weren't watching, the nosy little girl wandered off on her own and came to the library."

"JuOhCho's main library?"

"Exactly the one. It was lunchtime so no one was really around to see her. She hopped around happily, poking her nose here and there and before she knew, she was in the forbidden part of the library."

"Ohhh, you mean the part where they keep the death list?"

"Yeah, but there are many other interesting things in that section. They basically keep everything that shouldn't be viewed by prying eyes there."

"Really, like what?"

"Well, there is this book about evil spells that is said to be made by one of the demons of hell. It contains a bunch of spells you need to summon a bunch of demons and evil spirits and such. Only, since these spells are written by a hell's spawn, they are all evil in themselves. What's even worse, the book looks exactly like a children's book, like those they sell in bookstores that are full of rhymes. It even has a red-pink cover and a bow tied around it. Deceptively cute and alluring."

"And let me guess, our little explorer got her hands on this book." 

"First thing she picked up. And she's so eager to see what's inside she doesn't even give it a second thought. Now this is a grade-schooler we're talking about so don't expect her reading abilities to go through the roof. She basically picked up the easiest rhyme she could find and started reading it."

"Aww, how bad. And say, that was the spell to summon the Sleeping Spirit, wasn't it?"

"Wrong. There are no spells to summon those creatures.  It must'a been a random spell to summon some kind of demon I guess. The trick was the speed and concentration she used to read it. Real conjurers always speak the spells fast; they never stumble over words or repeat them more than once because of not getting the pronunciation right. It wouldn't help to summon a demon that way. In fact all it does is to screw up the stream of spiritual vibes that flow between the living world and the world of the dead. Same vibes that are picked up by our Sleeping Spirits."

"Wow, you sure know a lot about this stuff."

"Well, I've been around."

"So you say when she read the spell, she awakened the spirit."

"Right, but not just that. She also imprinted herself with the mark of the demon she was trying to conjure. That always happens when you speak an evil spell but fail to actually do it. You carry the mark of the demon until it really shows up."

"Ahh, so that's why the awakened spirit was chasing after the children. It was drawn by the evil spell and was then hunting the source of it."

"Bingo. Aren't we so obvious...I mean, smart?" A low chuckle and more ruffling of feathers.

Tsuzuki listened silently. He didn't know what to make of all this. There was in fact a rumor in Meifu that birds that flew around knew everything. But this bird seemingly knew A LOT, and she certainly enjoyed spilling it all about her. 

"So who's fault was it in the end? I'm sure they couldn't have prosecuted the child."

"No. But in the hierarchy of the guilties, our guy here was the last person to be picked at. If nothing else, they should have at least put that girl and guy shinigami on trial along with him. They were the ones who should have kept an eye on their daycare flock and they weren't. I think that at the time, the girl was occupied with nursing her injured foot while the guy was somewhere outside smoking. They were guilty of letting that child stray off."

"And the librarians?"

"Second guilty party. They had to watch for trespassers in the library but they were not even there. If these people had done their jobs right there wouldn't have been an attack in the first place and Tsuzuki here wouldn't have had to take extreme measures to save innocent lives."

Finally Tsuzuki decided to take another look at his chatty spectators to make sure they were real and not part of a pain-induced dream. It was already twilight and there was enough light for him to see clearly around. As soon as he lifted his head he saw someone walking up the hill towards him. His body tensed in recognition. At the same time, he heard the voice of the chatting birds in the back of his head.

"So Tsuzuki here is really innocent. He wasn't responsible for disturbing the spirit's sleep. And if the spirit hadn't awakened in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"Exactly, he is suffering other people's punishment. He might even die going through it. But now at least, he knows it was not his fault."

"Not his fault."

"Not his fault."

"He is innocent."

"Innocent."

"And now he knows..."

"..."

"Ohayo Gozaimas, Asato."

Tsuzuki lifted tired eyes toward the man looming over him. Isorou was as immaculate in the morning as he had been yesterday, wearing a silver-gray suit and his hair combed to the sides, accentuating the white at his ears and working to intensify his hawk like features. He leaned down slightly, looking Tsuzuki directly in the face, and the first rays of the rising sun fell on his face.

It was too much of an effort to keep his head up so with a sigh, Tsuzuki closed his eyes and dropped his head.

"Did you have a pleasant night, Asato?"

Isorou didn't seem to get a blow off when it came. Tsuzuki kept his silence but soon felt the prickly wire tighten around his body. It knocked the breath out of him and made him gasp in pain. Looked like Isorou didn't *appreciate* a blow off either. 

"Well, Did you?" he asked again.

"Yes, thank you very much." Tsuzuki said from between clenched teeth.

"Very good. It is only going to get better, you know."

"I'm really looking forward to it."

He felt fingers under his chin lifting his face up. He was too tired and weak to resist so he found himself staring into frosty gray eyes.

"You are acting brave, little shinigami. But I want to see how you fare a week from now when all your pride and energy has seeped out of you for pain and despair to take its place. You will go mad from it. You will break under the strain. Believe me, it will happen. It has happened before."

Tsuzuki only stared at him with hate-filled eyes.

"However, you can prevent it." The hand under his chin slowly slid over his jaw, stroking there like it was trying to tempt him. 

"You admitted being guilty a little too soon. It seemed a bit strange. Are you sure you didn't have anything more to tell me?"

The captive only blinked, amazing purple eyes still watching without words.

"Are you sure there's no one else who should be in your place? No other guilty parties I should know of?"

No answer. Isorou knelt down next to the shinigami, catching his dipping head with his fingers and pressing it up again. He saw the purple eyes close; sweat dripping from the side of the shinigami's face. He smiled malevolently.

"You don't have to take this alone, Asato. I know you weren't the only one responsible and you know it too. All you have to do is tell me who else and they will take your place in a snap. It's that easy."

Tsuzuki had started trembling. Isorou could see the effect of his words and his closeness on the bound man and grabbed the opportunity to press on.

"I'll even cut you a deal. If you reveal to me who else was responsible, I'll let you go and promise to be lenient with them. How is that, hm? Do you want that?"

Tsuzuki opened his eyes and, with great effort, turned his head to the other man and said, "No." 

Isorou's brows knotted. "Why?"

 "Because...it will make you happy."

Isorou abruptly pulled his hand away causing Tsuzuki's head to fall forward with a jolt. Anger radiated from every pore of the prosecutor's being and only with great effort was he able to keep himself from lashing at the bound man. The time would come, he thought to himself. He would show this wayward angel what it meant to resist him. He would make sure every second of his ordeal was as painful as it could possibly be. He would make him break, fold and go down and make sure that when that time came, he was there to witness his fall.

He stood up and left, sparing his ward no other glance. Tsuzuki's only reaction was to take a deep breath and sag in relief. His mind was racing a hundred miles an hour wondering about the surrealism of it all and praying for an end before it all came to a crashing halt by inconceivable pain that turned his thoughts and prayers into a wreckage of chaotic snapshots. 

TBC

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Oooooh, what's gonna happen next? Review and you shall find out. Hehe, that's lame, I know. But seriously, it takes so long to write these that I won't have any incentive to go through it if I get no reviews. So please be kind and spend a few minutes to tell me what you thought. Anyway, sorry this got a little too wordy at points. I can't help myself when I'm writing angsty stuff. And I know the conversation between the two birds sounded a bit corny but there are a lot of things happening in this story and, believe me, they all happen for a reason. 


	6. The Trial : Phase 2

Hello all, 

First of all THE REVIEWS!!!!!! Thank you so much to all who reviewed chapter five. And there was so many of them. Never in my dreams did I imagine I would get this many reviews. You guys are the best. I'm glad that so many people like how this story is turning out. It was a big kick for me to do this chapter as fast as I could. And I'll do the same for the next chapter if I get a response like that again. *hint, hint* :)

Now to the story. First a **warning**, I think this chapter deserves one because of the amount of angst and hurt that is contained in it. I'm really cranking things up a notch here so if you don't like to see our darling Tsuzuki in a lot of pain, please don't read.

The rest of you – which I hope is the majority of you ;) – please enjoy.   

------------------------------------------

The Trial – Chapter Six

Isorou Masaki. He hated the name as much as he hated the face attached to it. Watari was a happy man, a fun-loving, easygoing guy who believed in love and peace for everyone. He never thought bad things about others, or about the bad things **in** those others. He never imagined that a time would come when he would say he hated someone. But it had, now, and he could confidently, positively, one hundred percently say that he hated Isorou Masaki. He couldn't count the things he would do to the man if he got his hands on him: strangle him, pound him to the ground, dress him up in a tutu and make him dance around the lab, turn him into a walrus that couldn't stop belching...but since he couldn't do any of those things all he wanted to do was to forget about the man, put him out of his mind.

Which proved to be harder than he thought when he saw him sitting in a chair in his lab the next morning when he came through the door. Isorou was impeccable, clean-shaven, dressed, his gray suite ironed and void of the smallest crease. Only his hair was a little wind blown, most likely because he had gone out that morning before coming to the lab. Watari deliberately ignored him and went about checking a row of his latest simmering experiments. He tried to pretend the man wasn't there as he started taking note of the measures inside each beaker. He hated the man.

"Ohayou, Mr. Watari. Sorry to have bothered you so early in the morning."

Leave it to the prosecutor to make his presence known. For a moment, Watari wasn't sure what to do. Every fiber in his body was telling him to kick the man out of his lab and be done with him. But a small part of him - the chicken part that remembered yesterday's events, and was the side you usually end up listening to - begged him to take the safe road and not do anything, at least for now. 

"I was wondering, Watari-san. Do you by any chance have any painkillers here? I feel a bit of a headache creeping up this morning."

Watari gritted his teeth. How could he? He'd caused everyone so much pain in less than a day and now **he** was the one with the headache? Really…

"I'm sorry, but I'm all out of aspirin." 

"Oh! That's too bad. Do you have anything else? I'm not picky, you know. I'll take anything."

Watari still had his back to him, acting busy. He wished he could just not answer, but he wasn't able to. "I don't have anything left, really. We're out of everything. I was planning to go shopping today." He cursed himself. Why was he talking to this man as if he were anybody?

"Are you sure you have nothing? Not even in the first aid kit?"

Of course there was always some medicine left in the first aid kit. This was Isorou's way of trapping him and testing his boundaries. The evil man enjoyed it, like he had enjoyed defeating Tatsumi, torturing Tsuzuki, and threatening Hisoka. None of them had found a way out of it. What made Watari think he would be more fortunate?

Behind him, he heard Isorou stand up from the chair. He swallowed hard and forced himself to remain calm. He hadn't given the man an answer yet. The chicken part of him screamed hysterically that and he finally gave in to it.

He turned and found Isorou standing behind him looking through his desk drawers.

"I...I will look for it. I promise. I'll give you some as soon as I've found them. Would you mind leaving the lab now, please, I have tons of work to do."

"Are you saying you are kicking me out, Watari-san? Because if you do, you are making a huge mistake." Isorou's eyes flashed dangerously. Watari froze. Damn. Had he finally ticked him off? Will the evil bastard lash out at him now? Will Tsuzuki suffer more because of Watari's foolishness?

Isorou studied the other man's expression, then threw his head back and laughed out loud. Watari jumped at the sound of his laughter and looked at him in shock. Isorou kept chortling until tears poured down his eyes. Then, hardly restraining the remainder of his chuckles, he removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes, saying, "Oh man, you should have seen the look on your face.  I thought you were going to have a heart attack. Why did you get so scared? I was just joking with you. I didn't mean it that way."

Watari expected a sigh of relief but instead found himself fuming. This man, this evil, despicable man, was making fun of him. What did he want from them anyway? Why couldn't he just leave them in peace? And why did he act so normal and chummy around him?

The laughter died down. Isorou put the handkerchief back in his pocket and started for the door, announcing, "Don't take things so hard, Watari Yutaka. I'm not the monster you think I am. I wouldn't hurt you just because you didn't want me here, or refused me even the courtesy of some meager painkillers. I'm not like that. I only punish those who are guilty of a crime."

Watari watched him walk to the door. Soon he would be out of there. Soon he would step outside, close the door and be gone. Watari would be in peace, could go back to his work, and wouldn't have to bear the presence of this terrible man...

"Tsuzuki wasn't guilty of anything." 

...Unless, he put his foot in his mouth in the last minute. 

Isorou stopped and turned towards him. Watari expected to feel the pang of fear that had held him in its grips minutes ago, but he didn't. He stood his ground. 

The gray haired man put his hands behind his back and started walking toward him, observing him curiously. He stopped midway between the door and Watari and said, "Tsuzuki Asato is guilty of killing a high ranking temple spirit. Did you forget that?"

"No I didn't." Watari said with as much force as he could muster. "But he did it while defending two shinigamis and a group of children. You didn't even consider that in your so called court of justice." Ok, that was just too blunt. Watari had said it without thinking, or giving the chicken in him a chance to back him down, and now it was out. 

Isorou contemplated his words carefully. "Hmm, interesting," he said "Tell me Watari-san, what is so special about this Tsuzuki that everyone is so hot on defending him? One would think he's the most popular kid on the block."

Which was, more or less, the truth.

Watari took a deep breath. "Do you really want to know?"

"Of course, I am quite curious."

"Very well, if you must." Watari realized he wasn't afraid anymore, and that it felt good to give the man his honest opinion without caring about a damned thing.

"Tsuzuki Asato is the laziest, lousiest, most irresponsible shinigami in EnmaCho. He is always late, very disorganized and regularly behind in his work. On top of that, he has a tendency to run into trouble on a regular basis. In fact, he invites it. He's so clumsy he never could keep a partner for more than a few months. In his seventy years with the summoning division he has changed more partners than any of us have changed outfits. And he has a relentless appetite for sweets that just drives you crazy. You could be talking to him for hours about something and he'd be munching under the table all that time. Oh, and he's a terrible cook."

Watari stopped and stared at Isorou with a smirk on his face. Isorou was silent and not looking at him. There was a frown on his face. Watari felt triumph rise up in his heart. 'And don't even think about asking me why we all love him so much cause that part is private and is none of your filthy business,' was his thought. 

Finally Isorou spoke. "You don't like me that much, do you Watari-san?"

Watari shook his head ruefully. "No Isorou-san. I don't. Is it that obvious?" 

It was Isorous' turn to smirk. "Yes, it is. And it's a shame. Because I have nothing against you. We could have had a nice time."

"No, we couldn't. No matter what you say or do, I can't forget the fact that you hurt some of the people very close to me. I simply can't forget that, or take your reasons for it.  I can only ask you to please leave my lab right now."   

Isorou didn't answer. He eyed Watari for another while before turning and leaving for the door. This time, Watari let him walk out. He didn't realize he was crushing his notes in his hand until after the door was closed. He let out a long breath and looked at the array of beakers with the colorful liquids happily boiling in them. He thought about Isorou's last words and his reaction to them. Watari had never treated another person like that before. It was purely out of hatred. As unfamiliar as the notion was to him, and as much as he wanted to scold himself for it, a small reminder of Tsuzuki in pain, Tatsumi going insane and Hisoka with his tear filled eyes was enough to fuel the feelings inside him and make him hate the man ten times more. 

--------------------------

*Thump Thump Thump*    

The main door to the Castle of Candles rattled with the force of a fist banging on it. There were a few minutes of silence before the sound repeated, this time persisting a little more.       

*Thump Thump Thump* *Thump Thump Thump Thump* 

The fist was about to hit the door again when the door made a small creaking noise and began to open. The visitor stepped back, waiting expectantly for whoever was answering his knocks.

A bald, disfigured head with one large eye and a mutilated hole for the other poked outside and looked at the visitor in surprise. The midget butler recognized the man and opened the door slightly more so that the rest of him and parts of the castle's interior became visible.

"Good day, Tatsumi-sama. Can I do something for you?" Watson asked in that polite, weird tone of his.

"Hello, Watson. I'm here to see Hakushaku-sama."

Watson scratched his head and said, "Hmm, Hakushaku-sama, ne? But he didn't tell me your were coming to visit him today."

Tatsumi said, "He didn't know I was coming. This is not an ordinary visit."

Watson blinked his large eye and closed the door a tiny bit. "Then I'm afraid I can't let you in Tatsumi-sama. You know Hakushaku-sama only sees people with prior appointments."

Tatsumi shook his head. "I know that Watson. But this is an emergency. I'm sure the Earl will see me after hearing the circumstances."

"But it is against regulations. If you want to make an appointment -"

"Watson-san, will you talk to him? Please?"

Watson tilted his head to one side, observing Tatsumi's face wonderingly. "What should I tell him?"

Tatsumi pushed his glasses up his nose. "Tell him...it's about Tsuzuki-san."

 The butler kept looking at him a little more before saying, "All right, Tatsumi-sama. Please wait here. I'll go and see what Hakushaku-sama has to say."

"Hai, Arigato Gozaimasu."

Tatsumi watched as the little zombie-like butler trotted inside and out of his view. He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were slowly gathering on the horizon. Was it going to rain? A cool wind blew and ruffled his hair. He reached up and brushed it with his hand, looking around at the castle's gardens and the empty patio furniture under the trees. It was the place where he and the rest of the office had tea only a few weeks ago. He looked at the table where the four of them had been sitting: he, Tsuzuki, Hisoka and Watari. Tsuzuki had been extremely cheerful and, at the same time, very anxious that day. He was desperately trying to hide from the Earl's lustful gaze while Tatsumi was trying to teach him table manners and wipe the cookie crumbs off his face. He smiled at the memory. At one point, he had reached with his napkin only to find the chair Tsuzuki had occupied a moment ago empty. He had blinked in surprise and then felt a tug on is pants.

He had looked down, and there he was. Tsuzuki. Under the table. 

"Shh, is he still looking?" the younger shinigami had asked.

"Wh... Tsuzuki-san! What are you doing down there?" He whispered, disapprovingly. 

Tsuzuki had blushed. "Hakushaku, is he still looking at our table?" he asked again, sending nervous glances at the direction of the Earl's table.

Tatsumi was speechless. "Tsuzuki-san. Are you crazy? Come out of there right now. Do you realize how rude your behavior is at this moment?"

And Tsuzuki had pouted, like he always did when he was chastised by Tatsumi. "But, Tatsumi-san. I'm not comfy with this. Any minute he'll swoop over here and start groping me. And I **know** you wouldn't protect me if that happened." His pout got a little more prominent.

Tatsumi finally had to reach down and pull him out of there before anyone saw them. Ignoring the hurt puppy looks the amethyst-eyed man was giving him, he had sat him down on his chair and hissed into his ear, "Yes, I will protect you Tsuzuki-san. Now, please sit down and try to behave. You are a grown man." And, once again, Tsuzuki had smiled, just like Tatsumi was smiling right now, recalling that memory.

He was wrenched out of it by the sound of the door. He looked back and saw the diminutive butler standing there. The creature twitched a bit and said, "I'm very sorry, Tatsumi-sama. But Hakushaku-sama said he is busy and cannot see you at the time."

Tatsumi's eyes widened. "Did you tell him it was about Tsuzuki?"

The creature bobbed his head like one of those toys people put on their dashboards. "I did, I did. Unfortunately, he said there are more pressing matters to attend to right now and that he's sorry he can't see you not likely until next month."

Tatsumi's face flushed red. He had a hard time speaking and ground the next words out instead. "Next month? More pressing matters? What could be more pressing than his favorite shinigami being slowly and painfully killed on JuOhCho's grounds?"

Watson backed away and bowed meekly. "Please don't be angry with me, Tatsumi-sama. I'm only telling you what Hakushaku-sama told me."

But Tatsumi had already put him out of his mind. He stepped away from the door and walked down the stairs of the large veranda to stand in front of the castle. With all the fury of a secretary turned away from an important visit he looked up at the huge structure and started shouting at it.

"You hear that, you arrogant, invisible stalker? Tsuzuki-san is dying. Are you going to act as if you don't care? What, you only cared when he was close enough for you to get into his pants?"

No answer. Tatsumi's eyes continued to blaze. With a meek sound Watson crawled inside the castle and shut the door. Tatsumi didn't pay it any attention; his focus was entirely on the building in front of him and a window where he thought he had seen some movement. Firmly, he walked to stand in front of that window, figuring it must be the room where the Earl was right now. He would place himself in his full view until the man conceded to seeing him. Even if it took days, or weeks, he would not move from that spot until his wish was granted. He was willing to do that and more for his friend. As long as Tsuzuki was out there on his knees hurting, Tatsumi would be here, staring at the Earl's window stubbornly.

It was because he cared that much.

Or was it?

As determined and heroic as he felt then, Tatsumi couldn't ignore the tiny voice in the back of his head that insisted that this was just a way for him to get away from the office and the shame he felt from having to watch Tsuzuki get hurt in front of his eyes without him being able to do anything about it.  

--------------

Night came with a cold wind blowing through the trees and scattering the clouds that had gathered all day in the sky. It kept the moonlight alive and Tsuzuki was thankful for that, even if the chilly wind made him shiver in his thin shirt. The moonlight brought light to the fields surrounding him, made everything less desolate and scary and caused him to feel less alone. 

It was nighttime once again, the second night he was spending here. His wispy guardians were gone. They spent the day hovering around him and doing their silent duty of guarding him, but left as soon as the night came, going somewhere he didn't know. Apparently they didn't include nighttime hours as part of their work shift, just like he as a shinigami never did. It made him wonder whether they, too, were paid employees of Enma's organization. It didn't sound too improbable. After all, hard as it was to believe, they were all part of the same office.

A chilled breeze ruffled his hair and went under his shirt. He shivered and gave a small sneeze. He wished he could hug himself in the cold night. Being spread-eagled like that made him too exposed and vulnerable against everything nature had to offer, which was probably part of Isorou's punishment. He needed that hug badly. He longed to put his arms around him, curl into a ball and give into a quick nap. Just a little shuteye. To give his screaming muscles some relief from being stretched out for so long. And something to eat would be good too. He closed his eyes and smiled at the thought of hot apple pie sprinkled with cinnamon. His mouth watered and his stomach growled. God, what he wouldn't give right now to feel that that warm, gooey taste in his mouth. Biting down on the flaky crust and sucking the filling quickly before it dropped and made a mess on his desk. Then he would plunge his face into the cup and globber it down quickly before Tatsumi or Hisoka showed up and scolded him for eating on the job. But even if they did, he would just smile at them with a smeared face and tell them he had no idea what they were talking about… He swallowed the saliva that had gathered in his mouth at the thought of the pie and the pricks around his throat made themselves noticed, clinging deeper into the skin and drawing more blood. It was enough to ruin his sweet illusion. With a small choked sob, Tsuzuki opened his eyes to a cold, empty field with no apple pie, no office desk and no one to take care of him. He was all alone.

That was when he saw the shadow on the ground. Someone was there. He quickly looked up, fearing the worst and half expecting to see Isorou having snuck up on him to torment him some more while he was drifting into fantasyland.

The figure standing over him was not Isorou, he could tell that despite the moonlight shining from behind the other's silhouette. This person was much smaller, smaller legs and arms, had an orange sweater and jeans on, a halo of blonde hair, and magnificent green eyes. This person was...he was...

"Hisoka..." Tsuzuki whispered gleefully.

The boy immediately fell to his knees in front of Tsuzuki, dropping the things he was carrying to the ground and wrapping slim arms around Tsuzuki's aching body.

"Tsuzuki! Oh God, Tsuzuki." He whispered in reply.

Tsuzuki blinked. For a second he was afraid to react. Was this a dream made up by Isorou to test him? It couldn't be. It had to be Hisoka. He knew that voice, those arms, that scent. He had held him so many times, so many nights. It was like nature itself to him. Yet he still couldn't believe it.

"Hisoka!" he whispered as the boy hugged him tighter and hid his face in the crook of his neck. "What are you doing here?" He had to swallow before speaking. His voice was raw from lack of use and the dryness in his throat. "You shouldn't be here. If they find out... they will hurt you, Hisoka. You should go back home."

The boy raised his head to look into amethyst eyes. In the moonlight, Tsuzuki could see tear tracks on his face. He was crying. Then he heard him say, "I had to see you. I couldn't bear not being with you, after what _he_ did to you. I was so scared. Tsuzuki, I was so scared for you." He hid his face in Tsuzuki's neck once again.

Tsuzuki smiled. He wanted so badly to put his own arms around the frail shoulders and return the hug. He felt a soothing warmth deep inside his heart at his partner's concern, happy at the knowledge that Hisoka cared. He tilted his head so that his cheek came in contact with the sandy blond hair, his imitation of stroking them. "Shh, please don't cry 'soka-chan. I'm fine, believe me. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Hisoka didn't raise his head and continue weeping into his shoulder. He said through muffled sobs, "But this... is so cruel. How can they do this to you? I hate them, hate them so much. I hate to see you in pain. I hate myself for not being able to help. I'm so weak, so useless and I can't do anything. I'm a use-less... p-pathetic... little kid." the last part was broken by his sobs as tears started running down his face and dampening Tsuzuki's neck.

Tsuzuki felt his own eyes sting. He couldn't bear hearing his partner cry. Once again, he had made Hisoka sad. He closed his eyes against the pain in his heart - far greater than the pain in his body - and whispered, "Please don't cry Hisoka-chan, please. It will be all right, I promise. I'll get out of this real soon and be with you again so you won't be alone any more."

Hisoka let go of him and sat up, hiccupping a few times and rubbing his nose with his sleeve. "Baka," he whispered. Tsuzuki blinked. "What?"  Hisoka looked up, tears dripping down his face. "Baka. You think I say that for me. So that you'd be there **for me**? Fool, I'm worried about you, we all are."

Tsuzuki looked at him, transfixed. "Everyone?" he asked. Hisoka nodded approvingly. "Yeah, me, Watari, Wakaba, the GuShoShins, even Terazuma. The whole office it in a jumble right now. Tatsumi-san even..." but there he trailed off.

Tsuzuki's heart leaped with worry. He looked into Hisoka's glittery eyes and asked, "Tatsumi-san? What about him? Please tell me, is he all right?"

Hisoka shook his head pitifully. "I don't know. No one knows. It is as if he's gone mad. Yesterday he attacked Watari and then stormed out of the office. No one has seen him since."

Tsuzuki bowed his head in dismay. So that was it. He had worried his friends, made them suffer because of him. He looked up with grief-stricken eyes at Hisoka, barely restraining the tears. 

Hisoka saw his expression and reached for him again, surrounding him with his warm embrace. "Don't even start the guilt trip, Tsuzuki. Please. I'm sure he's fine. I will go look for him tomorrow. For God's sake, stop worrying so much about us." He laid his head on the broad shoulder and hugged Tsuzuki tighter. It jostled the barbs a bit more this time and the older man couldn't suppress an involuntary gasp.

Hisoka immediately released him, looking guilty and muttering apologies. Tsuzuki gave him a small smile and said, "It's ok, 'soka-chan." Then he sobered up. "Please leave now. I don't want you to get into trouble."

Hisoka looked up at Tsuzuki pleadingly. He said, "Please, let me stay a little more. I'll go back before they show up, I promise." His hand came up to touch his partner's cheek tenderly, trailing the deep lines of pain and exhaustion on his face, the dark circles under his eyes. "It's not fair." He whispered quietly, almost too quiet for the other shinigami to hear.

 "What did you say?" Tsuzuki asked.

 "Never mind," Hisoka replied. He then reached for the bag he had put on the ground and held it up for Tsuzuki to see. "Look, I've brought you some stuff." He announced happily.

Tsuzuki beamed. "What?" He was cut off when Hisoka held the mouth of a water bottle to his lips and poured the cool liquid into his mouth. "Drink something first. You sound like a rusty steam machine." Tsuzuki chocked a bit on the water, then drank greedily realizing just then how thirsty he was. When the bottle was empty Hisoka took it away. Tsuzuki looked even more exhausted; as if the water had reminded his body of the other things it needed badly. Like rest, and food.

Speaking of which...

"Hey, I brought you these too." Hisoka reached into the big bag and brought out a smaller bag from which he took out a donut. Tsuzuki's purple eyes twinkled with joy for just a second, but it was all the reaction he could muster.

Hisoka held the donut to Tsuzuki's mouth. "Here, eat. It's fresh. Bought them this afternoon."

Tsuzuki took a small bite from the pastry and started chewing. His tired eyes lit up at the taste and he raised his head to give his partner a genuine smile. "So good! Sankyu, Hisoka."

Hisoka smiled too, something that one would see the empath do only rarely. "You're welcome. Don't eat it too fast, I don't want you to get sick."

After Tsuzuki finished the donut Hisoka wiped the crumbs off his face and produced another donut from the bag. He wished he had brought more water. He made sure he remembered that next time.

It was strange, this calmness between them. Hisoka was reminded of the many times Tsuzuki had been the one to give comfort. When he had nightmares, or his empathy wore him down, or he had had a run in with Muraki, or even when he was suffering from common cold and had a fever, Tsuzuki had always been there to feed him and take care of him. It was rare that the situation was reversed. Like in Kyoto, and now.

"I've missed you." He murmured, coming out before he could stop himself from saying it.

"Hmm?" Tsuzuki inquired, mouth still full of pastry.

Hisoka blushed, and just then he realized his hand was stroking the other's hair. His blush deepened but he didn't pull his hand away. He was never comfortable with expressing his feelings but he was willing to let down his guard for now if it gave Tsuzuki a small bit of comfort.

Because Tsuzuki meant that much to him.

He took his eyes away from the donut he was holding and looked at the man. The clouds had left the moon now and he could clearly see the blood stains on Tsuzuki's shirt. Red splotches that had spread significantly since the last time he had seen him. He raised a finger to touch a spot and felt the crudeness of the barbed wire underneath Tsuzuki's shirt. Slowly, he slid his hand under the shirt and traces the twisted thin metal that went along Tsuzuki's collarbone down to his abdomen and around his back. Even as he touched it he felt Tsuzuki's muscles tremble under the strain. A lump raised in his throat. It wasn't fair, he thought as he closed his eyes. It wasn't fair. His poor, silly, kindhearted partner didn't deserve such a treatment.

"Hisoka, are you all right?"

He looked up, startled. "Aa. What do you mean?" 

"I don't know." Tsuzuki said, forgetting the donut for a moment. "You went pale just then."

Hisoka shook his head. "Don't worry. I'm fine." 

"Ne, Hisoka?" Hisoka looked up again and saw Tsuzuki's gaze was diverted. "Your curse marks...do they still hurt you?"

"What?" Hisoka said with a voice slightly raised. He looked at his partner incredulously.

"Nights, I mean. Do they still hurt?"

"What are you talking about? Who cares if-" 

"Because... I'm not there with you if they do. When you need me, or when you have those nightmare and you hurt..."

"Stop it." Hisoka hissed, trying to keep his voice down in spite of his anger. "You, baka. How could you even think about my problem when you yourself are down to neck in yours?"

Tsuzuki seemed unfazed by his outburst. He just gave him a tired smile and his eyes shone with love that was deep within his heart. "It's simple 'soka-chan. I care for you very much because you are my partner."

That did it. Hisoka knew he would burst into tears right away again. He did the only thing he could think of which was to wrap his arms around Tsuzuki and hide his face in his shirt, mixing his tear with the blood that was already there. Tsuzuki was stiff for a second before he relaxed and bowed his head to touch his cheek to Hisoka's head. Hisoka closed his eyes, fisting the shirt in his hands and biting it to muffle his sobs. 'It's not fair' his mind kept repeating as the overwhelming sadness bubbled up in his throat and came poring down his eyes.

Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that under the silvery moonlight clinging to each other as the wind blew around them.

"Well, if it isn't a very touching, affectionate scene."

Soon as the voice reached their ears Hisoka was pulled away by a hostile grip on the back of his collar and separated from Tsuzuki violently. Isorou held him by the neck of his shirt, like a kitten caught by a rabid dog, then threw him toward the phantom guards that were waiting a few feet away. "Sorry to have interrupted your tender moment together." Isorou said mockingly as two of the guards caught the stumbling boy and held him by twisting his arms behind his back.

For a moment they were both confused. Tsuzuki only saw the threatening shadows around him and Hisoka being wrenched away before Isorou's words really registered in his mind. The man was looking down at him, waves of anger rolling over his face before he turned to look at the boy, still struggling in the grasp of the guards, and then at the food scattered on the ground.

"I thought I made myself clear about the rules regarding this one." He swiftly turned and marched toward Hisoka. Hisoka was trying to pull his arm away from one of the guards and was totally taken off guard when the prosecutor grabbed his jaw and made him look into his face.

"Kid, I'm talking to you. Didn't I tell you the rules?"

Hisoka tried to pull his head back with little success. He gritted out, "You bastard! I don't care about your damned rules or your-"

The slap made his ears ring and his eyes see white. Somewhere in the background Tsuzuki was yelling. Then, his head was gripped and forced up again, even as his eyes fell shut. "You...you dare talk to me like that? You dare to come here, bring him food, against my explicit orders?"

Hisoka blinked, completely dazed by the rough treatment. Isorou grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him forcefully. "ANSWER ME!" He yelled as he slapped him again and again. Blood oozed from the corner of Hisoka's mouth and he found it hard to concentrate. Just then Isorou threw him to the ground and his head hit the solid surface of a rock. Hisoka's last conscious thought as he passed out was how he'd failed to keep his promise to Tsuzuki.

 "I said anyone who trespasses here will be punished and I meant it. You will be the next to join him in his ordeal." Isorou sneered at the unconscious boy. He then started chanting his spell and soon enough, a cloud in the form of a thin snake began appearing above Hisoka's head.

"No, please." Tsuzuki screamed. "I beg you. Don't hurt him, please."

Isorou shot him a contemptuous glance and said, "I warned him, didn't I? Why is it so hard for your friends to understand a warning?"

Tsuzuki strained against his bonds. "Please, let him go. He's only a kid. He didn't mean to break your rules. He was worried about me, that's all."

Isorou turned back to Hisoka who was still lying face down on the ground. "It doesn't matter what he is. Rules are rules, and I hate it when they are ignored." Tsuzuki struggled again. He could see the mist solidifying into a barbed wire identical to his own. He wouldn't... couldn't allow this to happen. Not to Hisoka.

"You said," He gasped for breath, "you said if anyone did anything against you, that you would punish me instead, didn't you?" He looked back at Hisoka whose upper body was now lifted by Isorou's magic. The wire languidly snaked around his neck and it made Tsuzuki's heart beat faster. He had to save him. He looked up at Isorou pleadingly and saw him gaze over at him with annoyance in his eyes. He continued, "I remember you saying that, to my friend Tatsumi. Why wouldn't you do as you promised? If you enjoy hurting people so much, then do it to me." 

Isorou kept staring at him. The wire still hovered around Hisoka's body with a part of it touching him. "You are willing to do that for him?" Isorou asked. Tsuzuki shook his head yes. "Do you know how much more pain you would be in if I dealt his punishment to you? Are you willing to take that risk?" Again, the shinigami shook his head yes, eyeing his partner and the wire circling around him anxiously.

'He doesn't even **consider** the options.' Isorou thought.

"Very well then, I'll forgive him once more. But then, this is truly the last time." He made a gesture with his hand and the menacing wire disappeared, leaving Hisoka's lifeless body to fall into the ground. Almost immediately, one of the yurei came forward and picked him up, the boy's head falling back as the creature carried him away. Tsuzuki's eyes followed them intensely and at the last moment, he saw the green eyes open slightly to reflect moonlight and despair. He mouthed Tsuzuki's name incoherently before he was taken away and gone together with the rest of the guards. 

Tsuzuki looked down and breathed slightly. He prayed for Hisoka's safety, hoping that Isorou would keep his word and leave the boy alone. The man's voice called his attention, "Now, the not-so-fun part. Then again, you asked for it."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the wire tightened around his body. At the same time, the small spikes that ran along its length began to grow frighteningly. Barbs that had been half an inch long before lengthened to twice their size, going so deep into his body they almost touched his bones. The pain was so incredible he had to bite down on his lip to keep from screaming. The world seemed to flicker out of sight and everything began to look blurred and disjointed. It was as if the world had plunged into a sea of darkness with the moon turning liquid and casting fluid shadows on the landscape around him. Everything that had looked safe and lucid before turned into a monster that rose up to attack him. He looked up at Isorou, his teeth chattering from the pain and his tears sliding down his cheeks making the world clear once again. The man was looking at him with no trace of emotion in his eyes. Tsuzuki wanted to lunge at him, to grab him and force him to stop, but could do nothing but to stagger in his bonds. He had never felt this helpless, this hurt before. 

'But if it makes him leave Hisoka alone...' 

He closed his eyes on that thought and blocked out all the rest. Hisoka... the boy had risked his life coming to him. _I'm worried about you,_ _we all are_. 'Hisoka...' that was his buoy in the storm, his guiding torch through this agonizing trial. He, Tatsumi, Watari, all the rest of his friends who were worried about him and still cared for him. For them, he would endure. And he would come through victoriously if he had to, just to see them again. He managed a weak smile and when he next opened his eyes Isorou was gone.

-----------------

Yeaaaaaaaaay! Another chapter done. Sorry I left you hanging there again. Just makes you anticipate the next chapter more, doesn't it? Now, those of you who are eager to review, I have something for you to brainstorm on. It is a question that I'd like you to answer if you want:

*What do you think about Isorou Masaki? Like him, hate him, understand him? And why? *  

I can't wait to read your answers to this. So go ahead and give me your two cents (which is way more than I earn writing this story g) :)


	7. The Trial : Phase 3

*Drumrolls* Charpter Seven done. Sorry, sorry, sorry it took me so long to post this. Please read the following.

There are some things I have to explain about the story based on what I read in the reviews so please bear with me. I also have to thank my reviewers who were the real encouragement behind the continuation of this story. 

Ok. First of all, *****Buhuu-huu-huu,***** no one likes my poor Isorous, :'( buhuu-huu. *Crying waterfalls*****

**JUST** **KIDDING**. I'm actually HAPPY that everyone hates him. Happy, happy, happy. Because - guess what - I hate him too. He's an arrogant, mean, ruthless, sadistic bastard and I want to grab him and punch him in the face and...well, you guys said it much better in your reviews. I'm just glad that I managed to make his character so awfully unlikable. That was my whole intention all along, and I'm happy I achieved it. BTW, he does have a back story that will come up later to explain some of his motives.

About Isorou's intentions with Watari, well, he's about the only person that Isorou hasn't hurt (or at least Isorou thinks so) Maybe Isorou wants an ally? Maybe he is lonely and is looking for a friend?

I wanted to thank some of the people who reviewed chapter 6 and said such nice things about my writing they almost made me die in happiness. I wanted to specifically mention their names and thank them, but when I went over the reviews, they were all so kind and nice I couldn't decide which ones to pick. So I say this, **Thank you all who reviewed my story so far and gave me your kind opinions. You are _the best_**.

Now, about the **spelling errors, **I'd have to explain that I'm not using a beta reader (which is a very bad idea, I know,) and I'm proofreading each chapter only twice (except this one that I did three times,) which isn't enough either. But it's all I can do to get the chapters out as fast as I can. I'm so busy with life right now that writing the story alone is a huge task for me. I don't want to be delayed by an equally busy beta reader as well. 

All right, without further ado, I present to you Chapter Seven: Phase 3 of "the Trial."

And here is a warning: There is a new OC in this chapter. And *gasp*, she's a woman. ;)

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The Trial—Chapter Seven

The light is gone. It's so dark here, dark and cold. This wind...it never lets up. Just keeps blowing. My body is shivering. Am I cold? It's so hard to tell. They say it never gets too cold in Meifu. So why does my body keep shivering? I should make it stop. I should try to stay very still or else the metals in my wounds will stab me. I'll bleed to death if I don't stop shaking. I have to stop, I have to, but I can't.

I don't think my body is listening to me anymore. My knees went numb a long time ago. It's like I don't even feel my legs anymore. Same with my arms, and the rest of me. All I can feel now are the wounds, the way they outline my body. It is as if my body doesn't exist at all and in its place, there is this giant, bleeding wound. I don't really know were my flesh lives. Where I am and where the pain is. I just know that I hurt, hurt too much, and I want this to end. End the pain, end me. Maybe I should summon Touda again. Let him take care of things. But I don't want to get the shikigamis involved. Besides, if I do that then Hisoka...

Oh God, Hisoka. I hope he is ok. I hope they didn't harm him. That man, Isorou...he promised not to. I'm not there to see if he keeps his promise. Tatsumi is not there either. Tatsumi...where are you? Why aren't you here to help me? You always helped me, held me when it hurt too much. Why not now? Why not when I need you most? Why did you leave me?

Hisoka said Tatsumi's gone mad. It's probably because of me. Because I caused them all so much trouble. Like I always do. All I bring them is trouble. They care so much for me and look what I do to them. I never should have existed. A worthless demon-bred like me should have just died and never become a shinigami. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I could die now and end it for all. I wished I could do that. Die. Get away from the pain. It wouldn't hurt so much if I died, would it? I'd make it quick, make myself free...and then the others would be free of me too. I should summon Touda now. But, Hisoka...

If only I could get some rest. That's all I'm asking for right now. Just a little break from it all. Gods who protect me, please hear my plea. Allow me a small reprieve, a little break. Just a short time with no pain. Take the pain away just for a little while. Take me away from this place. I am not running away. Swear to you I am not. I just need to get some strength. To come back and face my challenge with more resolve. I need that to survive. Can't hold out when I am this weak. I have sworn to get through this, I don't want him to win, I don't want my friends to pay for my mistakes. But I need some rest; need to gain some strength. I am so tired, so hurt that I think I'm losing it. And gods, if you only could grant me a break…

-----------------------

Watari wrung the wet rag and let the last droplets of water fall into the bowl before he covered Hisoka's fevered forehead with it. The boy was exhausted and still unconscious. He had been like that since those spooky minions had brought him into the office. Good thing Watari had been awake that time of night, working on experiments, otherwise poor Hisoka would have spent the rest of the night unconscious in a chair in the middle of the cafeteria and shocked the shikis out of anyone who had come in the next morning. Watari was thankful Hisoka was not heavy. Carrying an unconscious, full grown shinigami all the way to the infirmary that hour of the night was not part of his nightly exercises.

'Bastards' he thought as he removed the rag and checked the boy's temperature. Hisoka did not suffer from a real illness, and his fever was mainly due too much emotional stress. Watari wanted to know what had happened that night though, what was done to him and by whom. He could easily make a few dead-on guesses. The guards that had carried him inside, the head wound that was just beginning to heal and the bruises on his face that Watari had a chance to look at before they disappeared. They all pointed to one man. 'Again' the blond scientist mused as he took the bowl and walked over to the sink. 'He hit him again.' His mind couldn't stop pounding on that thought. He stood by the sink bracing his hands against the rim and closed his eyes. At once, images began to flow in his head, unpleasant images that made him grit his teeth. He opened his eyes, turned the faucet and watched the water splash around before holding the bowl under it.  'Why? Why? Why?' he silently screamed. 'Why won't you leave my friends alone? Why do you have to keep hurting them?' The bowl was roughly knocked into the sink and Watari put his head in his hands, water splattering all over his face and hair. 'Why? Why?' he repeated like a broken record, asking the unseen powers who might be listening to him. 'Why should all this happen?'

He heard the door lightly open behind him and turned. Wakaba was standing by the doorframe looking at Hisoka with a clouded gaze. It was a wonder she was awake this hour in the morning. 

"I've heard what happened. Hajime-chan saw them bring him in, and he said there was blood." She turned her sad eyes toward him. "How is he doing, Watari-san?"

Watari straightened his hair and reached for a towel. Keeping his back to the female shinigami he said, "He seems to be all right, thank goodness. I still don't know what happened."

Wakaba's face tightened with grief. "Hajime-chan said that he probably went to see Tsuzuki-kun. Hajime-chan saw him walk in that direction. He said he suspected Hisoka-kun's intentions but didn't bother to stop him. He said the boy should know better himself. I called him an idiot." Slowly, she came to stand next to the bed, brushing strands of sandy blond hair out of the slumbering boy's face. 

"He looks so peaceful," she said, moving her hand over Hisoka's brow. "After all he's been through. He's only a child." Just then, Hisoka turned his head and breathed, his eyebrows knotting together as he murmured, "Tsu... ki."

Wakaba quickly pulled her hand away and put it over her mouth.  The tears came unbidden; she wasn't able to stop them. Just then, she found herself surrounded by warmth and care in the form of a large, white lab coat, and arms that wound around her shaky shoulders. She rested her face on the thin layer of white and let her sobs break free. Watari kept holding her tightly while his own eyes fought to stay dry. After the girl finally calmed down he unfolded his embrace and looked her deeply in the eyes, one hand moving to brush the remainder of tears from the her beautiful face. "You better go wash up, Wakaba-chan. We must return to work in a few hours. I've heard the children are going back to ChiJou today. You don't want them to see you all teared up, do you?" She nodded and sniffed. "Thank you Watari-san. I will go now. Please, take good care of him." Taking one last look at Hisoka, she slowly turned and walked away.

Watari felt a headache coming and pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. He walked back to retrieve the rag and bowl and resume his care of Hisoka. This time, when he put the cool wet cloth over the heated face the boy twitched. Watari immediately pulled the cloth away and watched as jadeite eyes slowly opened. They blinked at the ceiling for a moment before slowly turning toward him with a dazed expression in their sea green depths.

"Welcome back." Watari smiled, forcing his best genki tone and adjusting the grin to project an air of comfort.

Hisoka's only response was to close his eyes. He looked weary. "How are you feeling?" The older shinigami asked as he reached forward with the wet rag to wipe at the boy's face.

"W…water." Hisoka croaked.

Immediately, the scientist was at the sink and back with a glass of cool water. But when he brought it to Hisoka's lips, the boy turned his head away. "N-no, not me. Tsuzuki." He pointed with his hand toward the window. Watari was frozen, not sure exactly what to do.

Hisoka gulped a few times before speaking again. "I forgot." He whispered hoarsely. "Forgot to bring him another bottle. He was so thirsty. Should have known..." he trailed off. It was difficult to talk when your heart and throat were so terribly constricted. 

Watari slipped a hand behind the young shinigami's head and tipped the glass to his mouth. "Drink a little, Bon. You need your strength back." 

Hisoka complied. After that, he simply laid on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Watari had thought him asleep when, a few minutes later, he started speaking. " I went to him, you know." A nod, the older man knew whom he was talking about. The gesture, however, was lost to the boy. "I brought him water and food. Donuts. Fresh, honey glazed donuts. They're his favorite. I couldn't give them all to him though. Isorou showed up and grabbed me from behind when I was feeding him the second one. They rolled to the ground, all of them wasted, right in front of his eyes." He turned his head to look at Watari who was numbed by his confession. Green eyes shimmered with unshed tears and the boy's face took a sad, crestfallen expression. "I forgot the extra bottle, Watari. He was so thirsty he drank it all at once. The donuts must have been sticking to his throat...and they all rolled to the ground." 

Watari came to his side, brushing his hand over the blond head. "Shh, Bon. It is not your fault." Hisoka seemed to ignore him, lost in his own miserable world. "He was...in so much pain. So much it almost burned me. When I first touched him tonight...it was like touching brimstone. I couldn't bear to go near him. I know he shielded it later; he is good at that, you know. But no matter how many shields he raised up, the pain was still there. I didn't need my empathy to know how much he was hurting." Tears started to flow from his eyes and some of it touched Watari's soothing fingers. "I can feel it even now, Watari-san. Even from this distance. And it's gotten so much worse. Isorou must have raised his punishment because of what I did; now he's hurting even more. And all because of me. Because I am this stupid, careless kid who can't do anything right. And what's worse, I can feel it all inside of me, as if his pain is a part of me. A real physical wound deep inside my gut, even if it is only a reflection of what he feels." He hugged himself tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, curling into a ball on the bed.

Watari kept up his ministration of the boy's head, fighting the pain in his heart. "Don't let it get to you, Bon. I'm sure you can find a way to block it. You've mastered that empathy thing a long time ago." Hisoka didn't raise his head from where it was tucked in the pillow and his next words were muffled. "I don't want to block it, Watari. I want to feel it all the way. Feel him; be close to him. Even if it means bearing his pain. I want to be with him at least in spirit."

Watari bit his lip. That sounded too much like something one would say about a loved one who had passed away. Of course, technically, they were all dead. But...he didn't want to think what would happen if Tsuzuki truly went away. He knew that if that were to happen that he, at least, would never be the same. Tsuzuki was the closest to a best friend he had ever had. He was the one with whom he joked and laughed and organized pranks. A world without him was like a world without the sun. Unimaginable. He looked down at the bundle on the bed and his heart tightened even more. What would happen to Hisoka if Tsuzuki died? He didn't even want to imagine how that would affect the already traumatized boy. Tsuzuki was the only one who had managed to bring Hisoka a little bit out of his shell, despite the many fights and squabbles the two of them had. They needed each other, and taking one away from the other was like killing them both. Thinking that, it was almost understandable that Hisoka wanted to hang on to this pain he felt from his partner. For as long as it was there, it meant that Tsuzuki was alive. 

Come to think of it, Hisoka was lucky to have that link. The rest of them however... 

Which brought to him the thought of another shinigami who was suffering the same way. Where had Tatsumi wandered off to? Watari had checked often enough to know he hadn't returned to his apartment in the past two nights. He hadn't taken any money with him either to stay at a hotel in case he was in ChiJou. What that meant was that he either had slept outside during those two nights or hadn't slept at all. Watari walked up to the window and pulled the curtain aside, looking at the overcast sky getting lighter by the approach of the day. The rising sun was shrouded by a layer of clouds and it looked like it was going to be a gray day. "Tatsumi...Tsuzuki..." he whispered woefully, thinking how he wished he could withhold this day from starting.

----------------------

His feet were on the ground. It was a strange feeling to be upright again, not having to shift on his knees. Not having to strain his neck or constantly look at the world upside down.

But where was he?

Tsuzuki rubbed his eyes with his freed hands and looked around. The landscape was deep red on all sides. Red sky, red stones, red soil. It was flat save for the crimson outline of some distant mountains. There were some trees too, here and there. But they looked more like skeletal hands rising toward the sky than actual living trees. The whole scene reminded him of paintings from a particular Western artist he had heard about in one of his missions; what was his name again? Something Dali (1). He had seen a few of his works and they sure looked a lot like this place.

He looked down at his body. His arms and legs were free, no more wires and barbs; no more bondage. Still, moving his limbs around didn't give him the unwinding satisfaction he had expected. He wasn't in pain, but he wasn't particularly relaxed either. It was more like a total lack of sensations.

He started walking in a random direction. It really didn't matter which way because everything just looked the same. 'What is this place?' he asked himself. 'How did I get here from Meifu? This must be a dream. But then, why does it feel so real.' He had only taken a few steps when he saw something white up ahead. 'Strange! Why didn't I see it before?' He started walking toward it, his steps light and airy as if he was floating. Everything was weightless and groggy and somewhat surreal in this place. Finally he got close enough to make out the object and saw that it was a figure of a young woman dressed in white and gold. She was resting on one knee on the ground, holding onto the hilt of a long, ornamented sword that stood on its tip in front of her. Her hair was platinum blond and long, so long it spread all around her on the ground. Parts of it was styled like a bow in the back of her head creating two perfectly identical crescents on either side of her face. Her eyes were closed and she looked like in prayer, or some kind of meditation. Tsuzuki stepped forward hesitantly, unsure if he was disturbing something. When the woman didn't move the shinigami took another step. Then he stopped all together, a few feet away from the statue-like figure. 

The woman opened her eyes. Tsuzuki felt a jolt run through him upon meeting her gaze. There was something strange about those... purple eyes? No, they weren't really purple. More like a shade of lilac and red. It was the strangest eye color he had seen in a person aside from his own.

The woman slowly rose to her feet using the sword for support. She was tall and slim and wore a Greek deity kind of robe with a long mantle towing behind her. The sword was still in her hand, its tip scratching the ground as she moved forward. She walked very regally and stiffed-backed until she finally stood in front of him, the red-lilac eyes trained on his face.

"You are here, Tsuzuki Asato," She said in a melodic, medium-pitch voice.

"You...you know my name?" The shinigami asked.

 "Of course I do. I'm Yano Ayaka." She passed the sword to her left hand and extended her right to greet him. Tsuzuki took it.

"Uh...Tsuzuki Asa-, I mean... nice to meet you," he said.

The woman smiled. She didn't let go of his hand but instead, used it to pull him along as she walked passed him.

Tsuzuki staggered. "W-wait. Where are we going, Yano-san?"

She turned with the smile still on her lips. "Please call me Ayaka. We are going to a place where you can rest."

"Rest?" 

"Yes, you wished for a break, didn't you? This is it, so we better make the most of it. Please come with me, Tsuzuki-san." She turned and resumed walking. Tsuzuki had no choice but to fall in step behind her.

 -------------------------

"Is he still standing there?" The question was directed to the miniature butler positioned a few feet behind the invisible man. The little zombie bobbed his head, despite the fact that his master probably knew the answer better than him seeing as he was the one standing by the window.

The Earl placed one gloved hand against the windowpane and stared outside, at the man standing in full view of his bedroom window for the past twenty six hours.

"He sure is persistent." Again, an unnecessary nod from the butler answered it.

The invisible master sighed. His hand on the glass clenched into a fist briefly squeezing before he relaxed it. He turned from the window to look at his devoted employee who bowed his head in submission. 

"This is not good." The Earl said. "Or perhaps it is, as I'm not sure about their exact plan." He made a gesture that could be seen as touching his forehead. His next words were laced with frustration. "They should have known. That precious child is loved by too many to be left alone. Something like this was bound to happen. I wished they had waited just a bit longer."

'But then again, it had been seventy years.'

He turned to the window in time to see a gust of wind ruffle the man's already tousled hair. The man's only reaction was to tighten his coat around him and fold a little more into himself. The sky was getting dark with more clouds. It looked like it was going to rain.

'Are you going to stand there even then? Will you continue to be the thorn in my eye?'

A reminder of what he was letting pass. 

"Damn you, Enma-dono." 

--------------------------------

The place where she took him was huge. She called it home but it was more of a palace. The room they were sitting in could fit his whole apartment in Meifu. It was decorated with highly ornate yet comfortable furniture in all different shades of red. The tall walls were covered with old, heavily framed paintings over a layer of crimson velvet wall-cover. One side of the room was a row of floor to ceiling windows concealed by heavy burgundy draperies.

He took it all in as he sipped on a cup of hot chocolate Ayaka had given him. It was warm and rich, just like the room. He felt like staying there for a long time, not thinking about Meifu and the painful fate that awaited him there. 

Ayaka was sitting across from him. She looked slimmer and more delicate now that she had taken off her mantel. She had a beautiful face and her eyes reflected the light of the fireplace crackling on the opposite wall. Tsuzuki felt warm looking at those eyes and he found himself sinking deeper into the easy chair he was sitting on.

"Are you comfortable, Tsuzuki-san?"  Ayaka asked.

"Yes, thank you." 

"Isn't this a much better setting than what you came from?"

That made him look up with fear, a spark flashing in his wounded, violet eyes.

Ayaka's hand rested over his on the table. "Don't worry, Tsuzuki-san. If you like it, you can stay here as long as you want."

Tsuzuki looked at her confused. "You mean... I don't have to go back?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Do you want to go back?"

A reminder of barbed wires and freezing wind brushed against his mind and he closed his eyes to will it away. "Do I have a choice?" he asked.

"You do. But it's up to you to make it."

Amethyst twins full of hope opened to her as the shinigami put the cup down and folded his hands in his lap. "What do you mean I should do?"

"You first have to answer my question. Do you like to stay here longer?"

It was so warm and comfortable in that room. The cushions hugged him like the soft recess of a cradle and the fireplace's warm hands caressed his tired and achy limbs. The warm cup of hot chocolate had done wonders to his insides. And was that cake he saw on the table?

"I want to stay longer," he said in a soft voice.

Ayaka's eyes brightened with her smile. "Really? That's nice. Do you want to stay here forever?"

"Huh?" Tsuzuki blinked. He didn't know what to make of the question. "You mean here, in this place? Forever?"

"Here or your own home if you want it. Main point is you don't have to go back to Meifu."

"But...my friends..."

"They can visit you here, or you can go visit them. But if you decide to go back permanently you will have to endure the trial." 

A subconscious tremble in the hands was not lost to her. Tsuzuki lowered his head and looked at the cake and the unfinished cup of hot chocolate. 

"You don't want to go back to that, do you?"

He turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, anything but that."

"Then stay. Stay and work for us instead of EnmaDiaOh who treated you so cruelly." He felt her hand touch his cheek and turn his head tenderly.

"What do you mean by us?" he asked in a monotone.

She stood up and reached for his hand. "Come, I'll show you."

They walked to a set of draped windows that turned out to be doors opening to an adjoining large balcony. They walked outside and the odd, scarlet landscape yawned in front of them with a few hills at different distances and a ginger-red river snaking across it. A warm wind blew over Tsuzuki's face and for a split second he thought he heard voices over it.  

"This is where your home would be if you decide to join us. Join the forces of Lord Mahorath."

Mahorath. The name sounded vaguely familiar although Tsuzuki couldn't place it. He stared around in wonderment, at the desolate, peculiarly quiet fields. The wind passed by him again and the sound of distant voices became stronger in his ear.

"What kind of work?" he asked distractedly.

"Our work. Handling the wrongs and misdemeanors in the world of the dead. Taking care of those who have sinned."

Tsuzuki's head whipped around toward her, ignoring the sounds that were getting louder and louder by the minute. "Taking care of those who have sinned? You mean, this is-"

"-Makai. Yes, Tsuzuki-san, you have guessed right. This place is Hell." She said in one breath

And then, the vision in front of him changed. The calm and deserted landscape morphed into a crowded ground filled with anguished souls who were moaning and howling in the wind, slowly dragging their feet over the burning crimson fields. On their heels were fearsomely winged demons, forcing them on with fiery whips and pokers, and other instruments of torture they carried around for that purpose. And the air was filled with screams.

----------------------

_"Doushita, Tsuzuki-san?"_

_"Huh? Oh,Tats'mi. It's you."_

_"I heard you crying. Did you have a bad dream?"_

_"Hmm? I don't know. I can't remember."_

_The lie was as apparent in the groggy, amethyst gemstones as were the tears on the petal soft cheeks. If Tatsumi's limited Reikan ability didn't tell him about his partner's state of mind, the younger shinigami's shaking limbs did. _

_He sat on the bed next to him. "You can tell me, you know."_

_"Don't worry, Tatsumi-san. I am alright."_

_'No, you're not. You never are.' Wordlessly, he bent forward and drew the other man into his arms. For a moment, it looked like the younger might protest. But eventually the inevitable happened. Tsuzuki laid his forehead on Tatsumi's shoulder and let his tears run free._

_Tatsumi closed his eyes. "What was it about this time?"_

_The slender body tensed in his embrace. The voice he had grown to love and cherish whispered in a broken, pain-filled tone. "My fate. That I belong in hell with demons. They came for me. I was helpless as they took me away."_

_Tatsumi gritted his teeth. This thing with Tsuzuki and demons. Didn't he have enough trouble with his job as a shinigami that he had to torment himself with this false judgment of his destiny as well?_

_"Shh, it's all right. No one is here to take you away. You are an employee of EnmaCho and as long as you are a part of it, nothing is allowed to touch you."_

_Angelic face awash with tears turned up to peer at him, purple pools spilling over in cascades. "But they eventually will some day. It is my fate."_

_Tatsumi looked at him with an affectionate smile. "If that day ever comes, Tsuzuki-san, I promise that I'll be there to protect you. No matter what the cost, I will fight anyone who comes to harm you, even if it is the legions of hell. Now, go back to sleep because we have tons of work to do tomorrow."_

_A kiss on half lidded eyes. Purple fires slowly dying out, failing to see the next one that was placed hesitantly on the slightly parted lips._(2) 

The memory slithered across his mind like sakura petals in the wind. Tatsumi Seiichirou tugged his coat tighter around him like a shield against the cold. He swayed a little on his feet, his body beginning to feel the toll of being upright for so many hours. He drew strength from the memory of the one he was doing this for, the one who thought himself unworthy yet to Tatsumi, was worth all the hardships in the world and much more. 

---------------------------

*Makai*

'No!'

Tsuzuki's face twisted with a hurt expression as he quickly pulled his hand out of Ayaka's and cradled it against his chest. His eyes were filled with a mixture of shock and feeling betrayed as if he were a well-tended puppy that was all of a sudden kicked outside.

Slowly, the longhaired woman drew her hand back and looked at her guest with unreadable eyes. She then turned toward the landscape, watching the souls of the sinners and the doomed being herded by their demonic wardens.

"Who are you?" Tsuzuki asked.

She turned. The disillusioned shinigami was still looking at her with a pained look in his eyes. So she replied, "I am a messenger from Lord Mahorath (3), king of the demons of Hell. I am sent to you to inform you of your options. You are chosen by the Lord to be freed from your trial."

"And this is what I have to become?" He stared in horror at the demons below wielding their whips.

"No," she turned her head away, eyed closed. "This is what you already are."

The world screeched to a halt for Tsuzuki. His hand slipped from his chest to fall lifelessly to his side, purple eyes widening and turning to glass. He was frozen in place, his mind repeating the age-old litany that had compromised his most frightening dreams since the days of his childhood. 'You are a demon, you are a demon, you are a demon...'

His lips moved in accordance with his thoughts, uttering the undeniable. "I am a demon."

Ayaka opened her eyes. "Yes, but not like them. They are lowly creatures doing a dirty job; you are so much more, Tsuzuki Asato. If you decide to join our legions, Lord Mahorath will declare you a Prince of Makai, as you truly are."

Moving up the ladder. Of evil and cruel enjoyment of others' suffering. Tsuzuki's eyes roamed over the land. Over images of pain and retribution played on the red tinged canvas - stained by blood – that was now reminiscence of the works of another artist, that of Hieronymus Bosch (4)

'A Prince of Hell.'

He felt the curtain of tears cover his eyes. His body trembling like a leaf in the wind.

'I don't want this. I don't want this. I don't...'

A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to stare into Ayaka's concerned eyes. "Tsuzuki..."

"Please, no. Not this. Not another seventy years of causing pain. Not another career in tormenting other people. I don't want to be the source of suffering anymore. I don't want to be responsible for judging sins."

"You won't have any hand in the judging, Tsuzuki. You will only execute the punishment. Others will take care of the judgment."

"Others..." he whispered. "Like Isorou?"

She bit her lip. There was really no answering that.

Tsuzuki pulled away from her and braced his hands against the railing. He wanted to shut out the grotesque scenes in front of him but somehow wasn't able to. When he spoke his voice was raspy and strained. "What are my options?" 

Ayaka's eyes rested on him sadly. "Only those that I already told you. Accept Lord Mahorath's offer and become a Prince of Makai, or go back to Meifu to endure the trail."

And that was the end of it. Going back to endure the trial. After all that had happened, it sounded so unjust.

'But am I willing to escape my own torment to become the instrument of that of the others?'

He closed his eyes. He could almost feel the roughness of the wire against his chafed skin, the sharp pain of spikes digging into his desperately heeling flesh, demanding blood. He could hear the screams of his outstretched muscles, feel his worn out knees, taste the coppery tang of blood in the back of his mouth.

And hear the cries of the damned somewhere underneath him. 

When he finally opened his eyes there was a look of resolve in them. He didn't turn to look at Ayaka. It was easier this way. One way or another he was lost. The only thing left was to accept it.

"I want to go back."

Ayaka's only answer was a nod. She seemed to have anticipated it, but that didn't help her sorrowful expression. With a wave of her hand the image dissipated, crumpling around itself like a painted curtain going down an invisible drain. Tsuzuki let out a gasp as he fell backwards into the ensuing void, his tears trailing behind him and sparkling in the darkness like so many shards of glass. Everything disappeared in a whirlwind of empty sensations as he fell down fast, plummeting deep into the bottomless pit.

And when it finally ended he was on his knees again. His arms stretched taught to the sides, serrated barbs clawing at his skin as the cold, merciless wind battered against his weakened body. He was back in his own personal hell, crafted and set up by Isorou Masaki. 

tbc—

Sigh! Poor Tsuzuki-san. I think I liked this chapter more than the rest. I love Tsuzuki sooo much. Love him, love him, love him. He's the cutest puppy ever setting foot in the world of anime and manga *glomps Tsu-chan*

I hope you didn't dislike Ayaka. I kind of like her character. Wished I could have a picture of her but my drawing really sucks. What do you make of her proposition to Tsuzuki? Do you think Tsuzuki would have considered the other option? Let's make that the next question, shall we?

As always, reviews are much appreciated. They're the fuel to the writer's tired mind and the magic spell for her babbling muses (My sorry attempt at being poetic.)

------------------

(1) Salvador Dali (1904- 1989): Spanish Surrealist painter and printmaker, influential for his explorations of subconscious imagery. [Encyclopedia Britannica]__

(2) I'm such a sucker for this pairing. Can you tell I'm a diehard TxT fan? Here, I'm assuming Tatsumi felt more than simple friendship in his heart towards Tsuzuki when he was partnered with him.

(3) Made-up name. Couldn't find the Japanese name for the king of hell. Consider him Enma's equal, only on the dark side.

(4) Hieronymus Bosch (c. 1460 - 1518) A prolific Dutch painter of the 15th century. Many of his works depict sin and human moral failings. The right panel of his most famous work, _The Garden of Earthly Delight, _is a portrayal of hell with fantastic punishments of the various types of sinners.[Nationmaster encyclopedia] 


	8. Memories

Good grief, this chapter is so short and tiny and small and petite... NOT.

I guess the thing is that the plot is growing like a bean stock and I'm having a hard time fitting individual parts into different chapters that are equally growing out of size. (my baby is growing up, *sniff*)  Oh, well. At least I've finished this part. 

A note that should be mentioned here: I had chosen single quotes (`) for thoughts, and _Italic_ for flashbacks/memories. However, in this chapter, Italic is also used for Enma's speech since I couldn't find any other text format that would have the desired "divine being" effect. So Italic doubles for that.

There are a few curse words in this chapter as well as some disturbing material in the flashback, so be warned. But then, that's what the PG-13 rating is for.

Ok, I know you are all eager to read the chapter so I won't hold you up any longer. Here you are...

The Trial –Chapter Eight

The rain had been pouring since the morning.

"Hakushaku-sama…"

He had been standing by that window for most of the day, looking at the rain-drenched gardens, the ripple-flecked pond, bushes and flowers... the blurred, shadowy silhouette of the man standing there. 

"He rejected your gift, Hakushaku sama. Said the only thing he wanted was to see you."

The sopping wet butler held out the umbrella with both hands presenting it to his master like the sword of a fallen opponent.

The mask turned, the thoughts of the owner not hidden from his devoted servant. Despite what it looked like, the defeat was all theirs. The lone man standing outside in the rain was gaining a slow grinding victory with his resolve.  Shredding their consciences and stretching their nerves to the limit without lifting a hand.

"Thank you, Watson. That's all."

The butler bowed, putting the umbrella under his arm and moving away.

The Earl turned to the window. The rain was making everything hazy and difficult to see, yet it didn't obscure the object of his attention. The Earl watched in silence, looking through the rain at the ghostly figure standing down there in front of his window. Was he real? Was he a ghost? He hadn't moved from that spot in almost three days. Could it be that he wasn't really there and what he saw was just a product of his irritated imagination?

The Earl chided himself for the silly excuse. Products of one's imagination didn't reject umbrellas.

He went into his office and closed the door. Sitting at his desk, he steepled his hands and went into deep thought. It was a strange picture as all that could be seen was a tilted mask and two gloves suspended above a desk. The silence of the room made even that blend with the interior. It stayed like that until a voice came from above, a deep tenor that reverberated through the room.

"_Hakushaku-san, what is the matter?"_

The mask lifted. "Enma-dono. We have a problem."

"_You mean that secretary form Shokan-ka?"_

"He's been out there for three days."

_"I'll order him to be removed."_

"I don't think that would help. Besides, that is not my problem."

_"What is your problem then, Hakushaku-san? Tsuzuki?"_

The fingers twitched. "Isn't it time we stepped in?"

_"No, it is Lord Mahorath's move. I will not go back on my word."_

"But is it tolerable?"

_"Here, there is no question of tolerance involved. It is the end result that will determine who will have the rights over him." _

"Even if it destroys him in the process."

_"Hakushaku-san, did we not already discuss the matter of your feelings in this proceedings?"_

"Unfortunately, this has gone beyond the subject of my feelings. The whole Summons section is up in arms. Do we want to jeopardize our organization just because we promised? Are we that passive?" 

_"It is common procedure for Makai to carry out the trial. I have never interfered in the past and do not intend to do so now or in the future."_

"I understand Enma-dono. But this time, the subject is a difficult case. I have yet to meet someone who is not affected by that man in some way. Makai might have bitten more than they could chew."

_"Only time will tell, Hakushaku-san. For now, our part is to wait and watch. I suggest you keep that in mind."_

"I understand, Enma-dono."

----------------------

Ayaka! ...

She was standing before him again, wearing a black robe of the same style as her white one from before. Her hair was blowing in the wind and her eyes glowed fire.

Tsuzuki wasn't sure if he was awake or dreaming. Dreaming happened a lot these days. Especially after his first visit to hell. It had felt so real and yet here he was, back in his bonds and kneeling on the ground. Since then, he had not been able to tell when he was awake and when he was not. It all seemed like an ongoing nightmare and every part of it had a different shade and flavor.

Today's flavor was black, its shade fire, and it tasted of death.

Ayaka was towering over him.

"You rejected us, Tsuzuki-san."

"I'm sorry, but I- "

"How dare you reject your own kind?"

He closed his eyes and dipped his head, not wanting to look into those feral, accusing eyes. He whispered his reply. 

"Please, don't say that. I'm not-" 

"Oh yes you are." Her voice was harsh. Penetrating. Her hair flowed and rippled around her like the locks of Medusa. "You are very much a part of us no matter how hard you try."

"Please..."

A red glow started behind her back, tendrils of fire rising to the sky. Her face was hidden in the shadows but her eyes reflected the flames like two red-hot coals separated from the hearth.

"Are you so bold to deny it? Have you forgotten that night? Those people? Killed at your hands? By the awakening of your inner self?"

The fire was burning brighter now, filling his vision with images too horrible to be seen. Tsuzuki turned his head as best as he could and squeezed his eyes, trying to shut the images out. It took him a moment to notice he could not escape a nightmare that way.

The village. The whole village was there. All the people he knew or didn't know but had seen around. And there was fire, in their house. Their house was burning. And people where trying to get something out of the house.

A girl in a dirty kimono. Long black hair. Unconscious. She was on the ground in front of the house. People were dragging her to safety. Most of them looked scared. It looked like she had stopped breathing and they were trying to bring her back to life.

...Ruka...

Tsuzuki tried to force his way through the crowd. But it was as if they didn't see him. He didn't exist in their world. It was just a replica of his, of what it had been when he was alive. He finally got close to the scene, to where Ruka was lying on the ground. And then everything just stopped.

There was a young man standing there, a few feet away from the comatose girl, screaming at the people who were trying to help her. His hair was wild, his clothes torn and hanging from his body that was smeared with blood. He looked like a beast.

And then he turned, and the shinigami saw an image of himself. 

It was he, Tsuzuki Asato, the way he had been that night.

The monster he had been that night.

The young man kept screaming at the people, telling them to get back and leave the girl alone. Most of them looked afraid of him and scrambled away, leaving the girl on the ground. The angry young man turned his back to them and surveyed the rest of the crowd standing in a twelve feet diameter around him. He looked menacing and on the verge of attacking them. Then, while his attention was diverted, the people behind him made a move to reach for the girl. It was a mistake.

Young Tsuzuki turned.

His eyes blazed fire. 

And all hell broke loose.  

There was a pulse, a bright white flare that started from the tips of his shoes and blasted in all direction. For a moment, everything went white and all sounds muted. Then the shockwave hit. The shinigami Tsuzuki tried to cower but soon realized he wasn't really a part of it. Like everything else in this world, it did not affect him. But it affected everyone and everything else around him. The people he saw all of a sudden disappeared, incinerated in a way that not even their bones were left. The trees fell to the same fate. The fire that was consuming the house was swallowed by this bigger, more overwhelming force. And at the center of it was his mirror image standing calmly and with no trace of emotion reflecting on his face. Simply observing the carnage he had caused with cold, unfeeling eyes. Demon eyes.

When the smoke cleared and Tsuzuki could finally open his eyes (he had closed them out of habit, not that the dust and the embers from his dream could really hurt them,) he saw the flashback version of himself being the last man standing. All around him was a massacre, stretching for miles. It looked like a hydrogen bomb had went off and nothing was left except wreckage and ash.  

It was the most horrific scene Tsuzuki had seen in his whole life.

Seen for the second time.

With a scream that tore from his heart he ran to his younger self and tried to shake him. His other self wasn't that much younger than him, maybe only by a few years. But he had a wild, dazed look in his eyes and his hair went in all directions. His zombie-like appearance and the way he was poised after his attack, as if finally having reached a resolution, made him look like a true demon beast. 

"This can't be me. It simply can't be. I had the demon under control. I had it always under control. Something else must have happened that night. Something that awakened it."

"The demon is you, Tsuzuki-san. Why is that so hard for you to accept?"

Tsuzuki turned swiftly, his hand still holding shoulders he couldn't touch, of a person who wasn't truly there. Ayaka was standing an arm's reach behind him, illuminated by the light of the fires around.

"Do you still deny the truth, Tsuzuki-san?"

Tsuzuki looked at her, stricken. He let his hands drop and sank to his knees, clawing at his hair with his hands and screaming denial. "No, no, no, no...This isn't true. This can't be true. Please say it isn't. Please leave me alone."

"Then stop running away from who you truly are, return to us."

She walked closer to him. He could feel her presence looming over his bent form.

"You had forgotten it all, didn't you? The sin that was committed seventy-five years ago. The same sin that condemned you to be a shinigami."

He crouched further on the ground. Fighting to shut out the world.

"No--" a choked attempt at denial.

"Your time for seeking redemption is up, Tsuzuki Asato. It's time for you to return to where you truly belong. To us, Makai."

--------------------------

Watari sighed and spared a look around the place. The Café was small. A neat little place a few blocks away from JuOhCho that was famous for its specialty teas. Watari used to hang out there a lot, especially after a hard day of working on explosive experiments. On its nicely shaded patio on sunny days customers could sit under the blooming sakura trees and have their tea. Today, however, the sky was grim and bucketing so everyone was crammed inside. Watari was sitting in a corner and sipping on his favorite blend of herbals while reading a science journal. He had his latest experiment tucked in his coat pocket to show to Komio-chan, his cute waitress friend.

He looked up from his reading to check on her when he saw a figure walk through the front door. His whole body froze. The newcomer sensed him soon as his eyes locked on his face and a familiar smile spread over his lips. Before Watari could do anything the other was strolling over to his corner preventing any possibility for escape.

Watari stared at the man in front of him over the edge of his magazine, cursing the gods that had caused this to happen. Then again, the gods might have been completely innocent in the matter. This man most likely worked for the devil. It was just like him to have tracked him down from the office all the way to here.

"Well hi, Watari-san. It's such a pleasure to see you here." Isorou cheered.

Without waiting for permission he sat himself on the free chair across from Watari. The scientist mumbled some kind of reply while pushing his nose as deeply into his magazine as he could. His peace was ruined and he was desperately grasping for whatever was left of it. It was a failed attempt as Isorou had proven time and again that he wasn't a man you could simply shut out.

Isorou picked up the menu from the table and opened it, his eyes staying on Watari. "This is such a nice coincidence. I was just thinking about inviting you to a cup of tea, and look where I found you."

'Yeah right. Coincidence my ass. You'd planned this all along or I'm the flying vacuum cleaner I still haven't invented.' Watari grumbled inside. 

"So what's good here?" Isorou asked flipping through the menu. "Anything you would recommend?"

"Yeah, try the Leave-me-the-hell-alone combo right there." Watari snapped.

Isorou's smile only got wider. "You're still in the hate zone with me, aren't you?"

"Yes, and I'm liking it so much I'm planning to invite all my friends over. No, wait, they're all already here."

"What a shame." Isorou shook his head, "and I thought we were past that. But no worries, you will come around."

'Yeah. Dream on, loser.' Watari thought, turning a page he hadn't read in his magazine.

Isorou was about to say something else when a waitress showed up. She and Isorou started a conversation Watari consciously ignored until a shrill voice brought him back to reality. "Ohhh, Watari-kun. Konnichiwa. I didn't see you. How are you doing?"

The blond man looked up and was face to face with his starry eyed waitress friend. "Oh, hi Komio-chan. I'm fine. How are things going with you?"

"I'm great. Did you order already?" 

"Yes, but I need to test my new experiment. May I have some Jello please?" 

"Sure. And you, sir?" She turned to Isorou, "Do you want anything with your coffee?"

"No thanks, that's it." 

"Great." Komio gathered the menus and walked away.

"So you're working on a new experiment?" Isorou asked casually folding his hands on the table.

Watari put the magazine away. It wasn't working anyway. "Uh-huh." He answered, not looking at the other man and trying to look as aloof and bored as he could be.

"That's really interesting. What is this one about?" Isorou asked.

"You will see when the Jello gets here." Watari replied.

Komio showed up a few minutes later with a bowl of cherry colored Jello and set it on the table in front of Watari. Right away the scientist took a pouch out of his pocket and sprinkled a finely ground powder over the dessert. Komio and Isorou bent closer to see what would come out of it.

Nothing happened. The two were so deeply concentrated on the bowl that if the whole thing exploded in their faces they wouldn't have noticed. Still, all the Jello did was sit there in the bowl and wiggle happily.

"Uh, Watari-san. What's happening?" Komio asked.

Watari handed her a spoon, "Here, try to scoop some."

The waitress reached for the spoon but it was snatched away by another hand before she could take it. Startled, she turned to Isorou who sweetly smiled back. "Please, allow me."

Komio turned to Watari with inquiring eyes and saw him shrug in reply. She then turned to the Jello and Isorou's hand that was wielding the spoon. He dug into the jiggling desert and scooped some up but before he could lift it, the bit of Jello took shape like a little worm and squirmed away. That took both Isorou and Komio by surprise and she let out a shriek. Isorou went for it again, digging the spoon deeper this time and taking a larger chunk out. But, just like before, the brightly colored wiggler took a life of its own and ran away. It became a battle of wills after that, with Isorou hacking and shoveling the evilly possessed Jello and the Jello running away every time he tried to pick it up. By the time he gave up, his face and suit were speckled with worm like cherry droplets and Watari and Komio were on the floor laughing their guts out. And of course, there was no speck of Jello on the spoon.

Watari came up for air laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face. He sat back on his chair and went to take the spoon from a totally flustered Isorou. He had to wait for the last of his giggles to subside before he could speak. "Oh man, you look so funny. Beaten by the Jello, eh? Ouch, my pride."

Isorou stared at the two of them dumbfounded before a grin spread on his face and he handed the spoon back to Watari in a sign of defeat. "I guess you are right. You really got me on that one, Watari-san."  

Watari giggled more. " I call it Jelly-o-Flee" he supplied, "the latest in my prank productions."

Komio clasped her hands in amazement, squealing, "Oh, Watari-san. That is so amazing. You're not going to try that on your coworkers, are you?"

"Well, not now. It needs a few more adjustments. But it'll be ready for the chief's next anniversary for sure." 

He turned to Isorou who was immaculately wiping Jello off his suit. 

"Sorry, man. Hope you didn't take it too hard. I wanted to warn you when you took the spoon. But then, I couldn't resist imagining what your face would look like. It was priceless." He blinked and turned to Komio as they both chuckled.

Isorou continued to smile, concentrating on his cleaning job. "I enjoyed the prank, Watari-san. It's not every day that I get to experience one." 

Komio was surprised. She asked, "You mean, you and your friends never pull a trick at the office?"

Isorou replied, "No, I take my job very seriously. There's no room for such inanities in my line of work."

Komio excused herself and left to attend to her other customers. 

Watari stared at the calm man in front of him contemplatively. 'No wonder you're such an uptight piece of work. I bet you don't even _have_ friends in your line of work.' He thought. But, strangely enough, he found himself hesitant to speak the words. Looking at the averted profile of the man sitting before him, his assumption all of a sudden seemed so very true. 'Better not piss him off.' Yet, he couldn't lose the feeling that he was keeping his silence more out of concern for the other man than his fear of him. The thought was rather unsettling. He reminded himself that he hated this man. That this was the man who had put his friends through so much pain. Still, seeing him wipe the last bit of Jello off his coat and pick up his coffee in silence, he found all that spite rather far away. 'I guess I'm not the kind of guy who can hold onto a grudge for a long time. Why not have a momentary truce for now? He did, after all, take that practical joke gracefully.'

Making up his mind Watari let go of the huffing and fuming and simply turned back to his journal while Isorou took a newspaper from the next table. Sitting across from each other reading their respective papers they engaged in small talk occasionally, mostly about mundane things and avoiding touchy issues. Watari realized that he wasn't too uncomfortable. He wasn't enjoying himself for sure but the feeling of being trapped and constantly having to act like a mouse on a hot plate was gone. A strange calmness had descended upon the occupants of the small table and Watari wasn't at all eager to break it regardless of its appropriateness or its implications.

Just then Isorou lifted his face and said, "Watari-san, I want to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

 "Who is Dr. Muraki?"

The moment was shattered.

Watari's hand trembled as he brought down the cup. "Where did you hear that name?" 

"Around," Isorou answered, "does it matter?"

Watari didn't know what to say. His mind was a runaway roller coaster trying to avoid the inevitable crash. Cautiously he said, "Why do you want to know about him?"

Isorou feigned indifference by looking at his paper and sipping coffee. "Nothing important. It's my job as an investigator to look for all the clues."

"I thought you were a prosecutor and that you'd already found your felon. How come you're so interested in investigating a judgment you've already passed?"

Isorou looked up. "Is this a touchy subject, Watari-san? I didn't intend to bring back the venom into your voice. It was just a simple question."

Watari slammed his hand on the table. "No, I tell you what it is. You're looking for another way to torture my friend, aren't you? You can't fool me with your fake innocence, or your damned solitary man act." He was shaking.

Isorou's too familiar smirk was back in place. He shook his head and rose to his feet, reaching into his coat pocket and placing some money on the table. "And just as I thought we were making progress."

Watari jumped and grabbed a handful of his coat. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Back." Isorou said in a dismissive tone.

"You're going to harass my friends again, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes."

"Well, if you are not willing to talk to me then I have no choice but to go ask other people. That boy for example seems to be -"

Watari tugged at him fiercely, almost yelling, "Leave Bon alone, you bastard."

Isorou pried Watari's hands away from his coat and walked away, subtly checking to see if the blond was following. He saw the scientist leave his magazine on the table and run after him. 

"Wait. Damn it, what are you planning to do?" Watari yelled out at him when they were out of the teahouse.

Isorou didn't turn. "Like I said, Watari-san. I don't think this issue is that much of a big deal so I'll just go to the boy and ask some questions and then leave. Nothing to hurt him or anything when he's not actively breaking the law."

Watari reached him and grabbed his arm, turning him to meet his face. "Listen, you pest. Leave my friends the hell alone and I'll tell you what you want. Happy?"

The smirk returned. "Of course, Watari-san. I like so much better to chat with you than with anyone else. After all, we're friends."

The amber-eyed man gritted his teeth. "But you promise to leave Bon alone, right?" 

Isorou put an arm around Watari's shoulder, patting him like a buddy. "Sure, sure. Now, lets hear about this Dr. Muraki, shall we?"

It was a long walk back to JuOhCho.

Later, Watari went to the infirmary to check on Hisoka. The boy was fast asleep and the sight of his slumbering face gave Watari a semblance of comfort. If he could keep that creepy man away from Hisoka for the duration of the trial then he could be contended that he had at least done something. To some extent it would lessen the guilt he felt over not being able to help Tsuzuki, and he was sure Tsuzuki would appreciate it too once he heard that Watari had looked after his young partner while he was away. He brushed a hand over a soft cheek and the empath murmured in his sleep, an arm draped over his chest and his head turned to the side with tousled, weed-colored bangs falling over his eyes. He looked so...so kawaii. If the boy didn't need his sleep so badly Watari would've reached over and wrapped him in a big hug.

"Sleep well, Bon." The scientist whispered, brushing the bangs away. "Get the rest you need in your dreams if not in this cruel reality of a world." 

He turned off the lights and walked out, intent on leaving his friend to enjoy this moment of comfort now that he was finally resting and at peace.

If only he knew how wrong that assumption was.

--------------------------

The boy named Hisoka hadn't had many peaceful nights of sleep since he had been a little child. When his empathy had shown itself full force his nights had turned into a montage of dreams and memories of whoever was around. If he concentrated too hard on a person, like the times when he was sick and sleeping in her mother's arms, he would see her thoughts and nightmares in his dreams and would wake up crying. Telling his mom why he had been awakened usually made her freak out. She couldn't understand why her little boy had been dreaming about the same things she had been worrying about. And in cases when she had fallen asleep she was scared to find out that they had had the same frightening dreams. 

Since then Hisoka had learned to sleep alone and keep his mind as empty and detached from everyone as possible. That was one of the reasons he read every night before going to sleep. Reading took his mind off the real things and locked it into the imaginary world of stories. Though nightmares were still possible after that, at least he could be sure that they were all his own.

His nightmare tonight was not.

He wasn't even a part of it, just stepping in like a kid who had put on one of those virtual reality goggles in an arcade and plunged into a world that was anything but real. 

_Running, running, so fast his lungs burned and his legs protested the strain and abuse forced upon them for the past half hour._

_"Have to get away. Have to get away. I can't fight that many of them."_

_The 17 year old dark-haired boy had been warned by his sister not to go to the village. The villagers had been angry of late. The harvest this year hadn't been that good because of untimely rain, and as always, they blamed the demon child who lived amongst them. Even though Tsuzuki and Ruka lived as far away from the public as possible - in a secluded spot outside the village and close to their small field where they grew their meager crops - people blamed everything that went wrong with their lives on them, or more precisely, on the boy who had the unnatural amethyst eyes._

_Asato knew there would be trouble. But still, he couldn't stay in the house forever. They needed food beyond the measly vegetables they grew in their farm. They needed bread and milk, and if possible, some dry meat. They also needed clothing and firewood. Life was hard on the outskirts and even though Ruka always smiled, Asato could see the effect of hard work on her slender, fragile body. He had to do something or they would not survive the winter._

_Which is why he had set off to the village that morning to sell some of their crops and buy supplies. _

_It had not gone well. Every place he went to there were talks about the famine and how demons had caused it. He didn't dare approach anyone and finally had given up selling or buying anything and just headed home. _

_They had ambushed him just outside the main square. A group of teenagers and some older guys that seemed to have nothing better to do. He was too weak and tired to fight any of them so he had ran away, but not before several of the sticks and rocks they had thrown at him bruised and bloodied his pale skin. They chased after him, keeping up the jeers and the throws. He ran as fast as he could, dropping everything and running even faster. But it was of no use. He had been through enough of these chases to know that the gang that was after him had no problem catching up to him and was intentionally dragging it out to make him exhausted and more vulnerable for the finale. Even though he was already used to their games he couldn't help but to run, clinging to the slim thread of hope that somehow, someway, he might be able to out run them. _

_It was no use. He discovered that when he turned into the gravel road that led to their home. He cursed himself for taking that path for his escape. He didn't want them to approach his house. Ruka was there; she'd be terrified. She always got upset seeing his wounds, even if she didn't witness how he got them. It could turn out even worse; they might go after her and to Asato that was the most impossible thing._

_With those thoughts in mind he took a detour into the woods. The chase ended in a dead-end clearing surrounded by thick tree trunks and masses of shabby bushes. It was secluded enough that there was little chance Ruka would walk into them accidentally while they were...at it._

_His breath and his knees gave way at the same time. He sank to the ground, rubbing his sore legs and trying to get some feeling back into them. It was over. He had nowhere else to go. All that was left now was to get through what was coming next and pick himself up afterwards. _

_He could hear them prowling around him. He could tell by the sound that there were seven of them, four teenage boys and three men. All armed with rocks and wooden clubs. He kept his eyes closed, praying they would give him a quick session and leave. _

_"Caught the little demon," one said._

_"Yeah, damn thing thought he could get away. After all that he's caused, has the guts to show his face in the village."_

_Asato opened one eye. The scene swam into his vision just as the rock thrown by the speaker hit him in the shoulder and elicited a cry. One of the older guys holding a scary looking club and standing closest to him leaned down and grabbed him by the hair, lifting his face to him._

_"So you thought it is all good, didn't you? Crops dying and us getting rain and lightning in the worst possible time because you're most likely calling upon your close relatives and your witch sister is brewing spells in your dirty little den."_

_Despite the pain and fear that occupied Asato's mind and kept him from looking at his attackers, the mention of his sister's name caused him to open his eyes. Though he never wanted to talk to them, just get it over and done with, he found himself pleading. "Please-- leave her alone." _

_The backhand he received was enough to knock him back down. He gasped to get air into his suddenly collapsing lungs when a kick to his side denied him even that. His slender body crumpled to the ground and stayed there, waiting for the rest, waiting for the blows and kicks that would soon rain down on him and change the blackness of the world into the familiar dark red. It wasn't a long wait._

Hisoka let out a scream that came out as silent as the underwater cries of a drowning child. He flailed against the horrid images that were coming to him like pieces of an armature horror film. A reception he had absolutely no control over. He could only helplessly watch as the gang of brutes and rowdy teenagers beat up a young and fragile Tsuzuki within inches of his life. He looked on as the boy who was a younger version of his partner curled onto himself to protect his body from the mistreatment and never fought back. Not that there was any sense in fighting against seven bullies. The attackers showed the fallen 17-year-old no mercy at all. 

When they finally got tired of beating him the four younger ones left. But the older men didn't seem willing to let go of their prey. He saw them approach the still form of the half conscious boy with glinting eyes and expressions on their faces that Hisoka could only describe as disturbing. And then the unthinkable happened, as they knelt down beside him and grabbed hold of his torn clothes. What came next reminded Hisoka of Muraki and that night under the sakura trees, similar in its ugliness and impossibility to accept. Only here, there were three evil monsters defiling an innocent angel. It was so disgusting, so stomach-churning that Hisoka had to shut his eyes lest the depravity of it choked his soul. 

Even mute, Hisoka couldn't stop the screams that kept rending his throat. He screamed with all his heart, willing to shatter the scene played out in front of him. He wished so badly that he could do something, but his rational mind understood that nothing could be done. It was a dream, even if it felt so damned real. His efforts were of no use because this wasn't something that was taking place right now but a sin committed over seventy years ago, when the boy who was the victim was still alive. Something that had been locked up deep within the gentle heart of the man who had been that boy, the man he loved with all his heart. A friend who held him when he hurt, listened to him when he cried, yet never let any of his own pain show on the surface. Thinking that this was what that man had gone through... the life he had led and now hid from everyone...it was enough to make him want to tear something apart.

But all he could do was to watch. 

_Slowly, he opened his eyes, looking at the dirty world through his blood and tear encrusted lids. He blinked a few times to make his vision clear, seeing the bed of leaves his cheek was resting on, the sideway shapes that seemed to be trees and the splatters of blood. _

_He tried to move but it was enough to make him gasp from pain, spikes of it shooting from every limb in his body. All his muscles were tense, contracted around his abdomen to make his body as small as possible. He tried again and managed to move his fingers, uncurling them to release the fistful of soil and dirt he had clutched from the ground. He took deep breaths, trying to ride through the pain and get the fear under control so that his body would move. With his eyes he surveyed the area for moving shadows but found none. His attackers were gone._

_It could be so easy to just lie there and close his eyes. He didn't want to move just now. His body was sore and bleeding and his joints and muscles screaming to be left alone. There was pain in others parts of his body he didn't want to think about. He hated it. Hated the beatings and the words but what those older guys did to him...that, he hated the most. He blinked tears at his own weakness. He thought he had grown strong enough that he could finally fight back. He was 17 now. Why did they always have to gang up on him? Why did they never play fair? Why did everyone hate him? Those ruined crops... was it really his fault? Was he really the demon they called him?_

_ If he could only get to Ruka, get home--_

_With a renewed effort that brought back the mind numbing pain, he shifted his body to try and unfold his joints. He knew he was close to home; wouldn't take long for him to get there if he tried, moving slowly if he had to. He just had to crawl a bit, just get past the grove and into the field. He then could use the slope of the ground to his advantage and get there faster. _

_If he endured a little more he would soon be home with his sister and she would take care of him. Never mind how embarrassed he would be that he had, once again, failed to defend himself. Never mind how worried and distressed she would be seeing him in that condition. It would be all right. It wasn't the first time he came home all covered in bruises and cuts. He wouldn't tell her about the rest of the things they did to him though. That, he would keep locked somewhere deep inside where not even his own mind could reach it. _

_He so wanted to just lie there and close his eyes. He needed the rest. Home was nice but before he moved, he needed to gather all the strength he could get. Maybe for just a second or two..._

_The red glow behind his eyelids was enough to draw him out of his daze. Painfully, he lifted swollen eyes toward the glowing light that came from beyond the trees. It was shifting, casting alternating shadows against the shrubberies. He could see the extremities of the fire reaching toward the sky, striving to rise above what was obscuring his view. His heart skipped a beat. There was something about the direction that glow came from that alarmed him, a direction that led to the only place he loved, the only person that loved him. It came from--their home.  _

_"Nee-san!" _

_It was a scream in his head but came out as a whimper from his lips Fear coiled like a dead cobra inside his guts and forced him to put his arms under him and push his body off the ground. Pain shot through every single cell in his body. He bore it, wearing his lower lip with his teeth as he pushed off again and this time managed to get to his knees, then on his legs, and finally, with the help of a few branches to hang onto, stand on his feet._

_He saw the fire. His adrenaline skyrocketed at the confirmation of his previous fear. There was a hellish blaze coming from the direction of his house. He took off on a run before his legs gave way and he landed on his face. Rising again, breathing heavily as he forced his mind to think straight, he began walking toward the house at a slower pace. Clutching his wounded shoulder and limping one step at a time closer to the source of the flames._

_What he saw when he got there made his blood freeze. Their little hut was on fire, burning high and feral. There were people gathered all around it, the whole village seemed to have been assembled there. The fire was roaring; tearing bits and pieces of the roof with its scorching claws and flinging them everywhere._

_In an instant Asato forgot about his pain and ran into the crowd, parting them like a summoned animal to get to the burning structure._

_"Nee-san, nee-san!!!" he kept screaming through the raging blaze and the shouts and calls coming from the crowd. As he was getting closer to look inside the house when the heat of the burning flames and the flying sparks stopped him, forcing him to shield his face with his arm. "Nee-san!" he yelled again and leaped forward. Even wounded and bleeding the thought of leaving Ruka in that inferno was unbearable._

_Someone latched onto him and held him back._

_"Are you crazy, boy? You wanna get killed?"_

_He struggled against the restraining arms, screaming, "Let me go. Let me go. I have to save my nee-san."_

_Then he saw her. Lying on the ground in front of the house. Unconscious, unmoving, perhaps dead. Her hair fanned around her like a dark shadow and there where bruises and burns all over her skin._

_His world plunged into darkness. _

_For and instant, just a fraction of a second, there was nothing but pure darkness around them with him and Ruka at the center of it. They were the only citizens of this dark and heartless world._

_He felt the scream the moment it began churning up in his throat and coming out in a rush of furiously released breath. Not quite a human sound, more like the howl of a wild animal watching its den destroyed and its mate killed._

_"RUKAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"_

_He was all blind rage and madness after that. He didn't know quite how he freed himself from the hands that were holding him and launched forward before more hands latched onto him. He struggled and screamed against them like a trapped beast, trying to get away and get closer to the house, to where his nee-san was lying. _

_"Let me go. I know who did this. I know why they did it. Let me go."_

_A voice rang in his ear, "Calm down, Asato. Your nee-san is alive. We just have to get her out of here."_

_"Liars, all liars. You said you wouldn't hurt her if I didn't resist. You said you'd leave her alone if I let you do to me what you wanted. Why didn't you keep your promise? Why did you hurt her? I thought I was the monster you all hate so much. I was the one who made your lives miserable. Why her-?"_

_His eyes bulged and his veins stood out at the sight of people approaching his sister's body and trying to lift it off the ground. "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER."_

_And that was it. With inhuman strength he didn't know he had he freed himself from the hands that held him and rushed to where Ruka's body was. The people around her ran off at the sight of him and, for once, he actually enjoyed it. He was a monster? He was a demon? Good. Let them be scared of him. Instantly, he turned toward the crowed that was looking at him with wide and shocked eyes. His back was to the burning house, fire blazing behind him like the forces of hell, adding to his eerie, demonic looks._

_"You think you can do whatever you want?" he screamed out, "You hate us so much you couldn't even leave us our shabby little hut? Had to come here and take that away too? You. Don't. Know. What you messed with."_

_His eyes roamed over the crowd, catching a glimpse of some teenagers who looked like the gang that had attacked him. They where standing there looking at him like the rest of the crowd but through the shadows of the dancing flames, he thought he saw a smirk on their faces. His blood boiled hotter than the fire behind him, urging him to run to them and wipe those ignorant, evil smiles off. That was when he sensed movement at his side and turned to see people reaching for his sister again. His eyes glowed. His mouth twisted into a repellant grimace and his whole face changed into the likes of a grotesque carnival mask. _

_The men and women who were touching Ruka shrieked in fear and scrambled to back away. Yet it was already too late. Asato closed his eyes and all the muscles in his body tensed and bulked. Sparks and sizzles of white light started on the ground at the tips of his toes and, like a dynamite string put ablaze, whizzed and zigzagged on the dry grass going in all crazy directions. The crowd screamed at the sight, shifting their eyes from a wild haired Asato to the zooming, charging white flickers on the ground._

_It was the last thing they saw._

Hisoka couldn't believe his eyes as he saw the blinding white explosion that covered everything in the next few seconds. All images disappeared, all sounds muted, leaving only the overwhelming, all encompassing bright glare and the lone figure standing at the center of it. After a frighteningly stretched moment of blindness and deafness, when the shock wave of the blast swept over the entire area, wiping everything but the dream visitor out of its way, Hisoka finally blinked and focused his eyes. What he saw strongly resembled a scene from a holocaust.

"Oh Gods, no. What did just happen?" he whispered.

He searched for young Tsuzuki, trying to find him through the burning remains of trees and walls and what chillingly looked like charred human bodies. Now he knew...Gods help him but he knew, the pain that Tsuzuki suffered, the magnitude of guilt he carried on his shoulders. So many people--they were all dead.

At last he found him. But it wasn't the young Tsuzuki he saw again. Not the 17-year-old dark haired youth with the bruised and wounded body. This was his Tsuzuki, the partner he knew and worried about so much.

He was standing there looking at the carnage with the same terrified eyes as Hisoka. Hisoka cried at him but this cry was as mute as the rest of his attempts at making a sound. He hated this aspect of his dream. Then he saw another person. Someone he had failed to spot before. A woman in a black robe and with light blond hair, standing a few feet away from the dazed and anguished Tsuzuki and staring at him with intense eyes. He didn't like the way she looked at him. He didn't like anything about that picture at all.

"You did this, didn't you?" She was speaking. Hisoka strained his ears to hear.

"Look at it."

"No."

"I said look at it. Open your eyes."

"Please..."

"This is your past. This is what you were before you became a shinigami. Demon. You became a shinigami to be punished for all these sins. Now your time is up. You have to come back to your original kin. You have to accept the truth."

Tsuzuki was holding his hands over his ears trying to block the horrible declarations. He looked around imploringly, searching the smoldering grounds for something, anything, that would give him comfort.

'I'm here Tsuzuki. Please, see me. You are not alone.'

But the purple gaze swept right past him and then turned to the ground. The woman's voice rang from his back like a witch's chanting of a spell. "You must return to us, Tsuzuki Asato. You are a doomed creature of darkness and there is no place for you in the world other than where you belong to. Come back to the fields of hell. Return and your suffering shall end."

Tsuzuki fell to his knees, grabbing his head with his hands and screaming. Screaming so loud the moon shattered.

Hisoka joined him with his own cries, loud and desperate, until he rent his throat and bolted out of his sleep.

The infirmary was calm and silent as it always was that late in the night. For once no one was around to rush to his side. It seemed like he could hear the echo of his own dying scream through the halls and corridors. He took a few deep, shuddering breaths and tried to calm his nerves. It took him a while to realize his whole body was drenched in sweat.

'Gods, let this end, please. Whatever crimes Tsuzuki and I have committed, please let the punishment be enough. Bring him back to me, please. Let this end.'

He curled on his side. Yearning, no needing to be held by Tsuzuki. Aching for his warmth and his touch to drive the coldness away, to chase the fear out of the night.

_Because I'm not there with you.… When you need me, when you have those nightmares and you hurt._

He hadn't thought much about those words when they were spoken. Hadn't imagined how they were so true. How much he needed Tsuzuki in times like this, especially since Tsuzuki had been the one he had seen in those dreams, the source of his nightmares. It seemed only fair that he should be there for the comfort too.

But fairness had been light years away from them since this all had started. Hisoka folded his small body on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to shut out everything from his mind. Making sure with a pained and frozen heart that his thoughts were as far away from Tsuzuki as possible.

He couldn't tell which hurt worse. The nightmares he suffered because of his partner or the cold emptiness he was feeling now that he was detached from him  

No one saw the shadow outside in the hallway, or heard the sinister laughter of the man listening in on the misery of the boy inside. 

'Hope you enjoyed it, little kid. That'll teach you a lesson not to mess around with the mind of the one we are working on. It's a dangerous playground, you know. Tonight's happening has shown you just how far away you should stay from him, together with your nosy little empathetic mind.'

Isorou turned to leave, thoroughly satisfied with himself. Just before he lost sight of the room where the empath was resting he turned and took another peak, contemplating a thought. 'Hmm, perhaps the boy's more amusing than I thought. Should check on that sometime.'

With that thought in mind, the prosecutor turned the corner and walked away, his shoes clicking against the polished surface of the hallway floor and his mouth whistling a tune to the beat of the drumming rain outside.

tbc-- 

There you have it. Lots of foreshadowing for the coming chapters. All for the snowball plot that just keeps coming (I'll have to strangle my muse at some point.)

The flashback probably didn't have much to do with the plot but I added it anyway. I always wanted to write my own version of what happened on that faithful night when Tsuzuki lost his mind and landed in a hospital for eight years.

Some of you might think Ayaka was totally out of character here compared to what she was like in the last chapter. Well, as most of you might have guessed, this is all part of a grand scheme. One that is slowly being revealed as we approach the conclusion of the story.  

Blabla bla blablabla bla review blablabla bla bla please blabla blablablabla... Ok? ;)

Let me say it this way, your ideas have an effect on the way the story moves ahead so please don't hold anything back. Give me your piece of mind about characters, settings and situations and what you see happening in the future. It helps to improve my work.


	9. Intermission

Hi fellow YnM fans. I'm back. Sorry for my laziness in updating the fic. It's not intentional (yeah, laziness never is g.) I haven't abandoned the fic or left it in hiatus, it's just that I haven't had time to work on it in the past few weeks because of other projects.

Now, to make up for that, here is a little bit of silliness I came up with for your entertainment. I'm not sure if this is what they call an "omake" but I'll call it "taking a break from all that angst and just having fun." You'll see what I mean when you read it :)

Once again, thanks to all who reviewed chapter 8 and here are some replies to show my gratitude: 

**Ashen Skies:** Yes, Isorou is THAT evil, but he also has a past that will soon be revealed. 

**Kara Angitia:** Hehe, love the sign-on-Isorou's-back idea. Keep kicking.

**BranBlack:** I agree with your criticism. The only thing is that I need Tatsumi there for plot purposes. But I promise there will be more Tats in future chapters.

**Crystal56:** Thanks for the compliment (I guess it was a compliment, wasn't it? ;) Who's Eva?  

**Joon:** You are one of my favorite reviewers. Thanks for the comment and for liking my villain. Will bring more Tats soon.

**Literary Eagle:** Jelly and angst. Yeah, That's my recipe. Glad you liked it.

**firskey:** I'm so happy you like my fic. Your review warmed my heart. And there is more Isorou torturing Hisoka to come. Especially in the next chapter.

**ManderNaner:** Thank you, thank you, thank you for your nice review. I'll do my best to update fast.

**Kurai:** Welcome to the club and thanks for reading. I hope you like the rest of the story as well.

**Shingo the Pest****:** I'm glad you like the angst. And yeah, Isorou is the kind of guy who'd torture anyone in his warped definition of getting justice. But he's also in for a big surprise, Just wait and read. 

On to the silly bits now…

Warning: Major OOCness ahead, and characters losing their memories.

---------------

The Trial—Intermission (or I'm now going to take a break from angst.)

That morning Hisoka entered Konoe's office with anger written all over his face. The boss didn't even have time to duck when a thick book hit him right in the head. 

"How could you lock yourself up in here all this time and not do anything?" Hisoka barked as he closed the door behind him and stepped forward.

Konoe picked up the book and looked at the cover, 'Hmm, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Can't remember reading that one. But the movie's coming out soon so I guess I'll watch that instead of reading this.' he thought.

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?" 

Oops, Kurosaki-kun, still here.

He put the book down and gave a sheepish look to his subordinate. "Oh...ohayou Kurosaki-kun. What seems to be the problem?"

Hisoka smacked his forehead with his hand, "I can't believe you're asking me this. You mean you have no idea what's been going on in the office in the past couple of days?"

Konoe scratched his head. "Uh, I don't know. I'm kinda being kept away from things mostly because my character isn't that necessary to the plot."

"Your character is never necessary, Kachou. You are only there to give mission briefings, ask for souvenirs and occasionally be one of the guys who give Tsuzuki a hard time. But it makes me wonder, wouldn't you at least WANT to sneak into the plot for once? Just in this case, to see what's happening?"

Konoe blinked. "But I know what's happening."

"NO YOU DON'T" Hisoka yelled again, "If you did, you would've asked me right now how I dare yell at my superior like this. But you don't so I'll tell you what's wrong with you: You're being completely out of character, Konoe-kachou."

Konoe still blinked, "And you're not?"

Hisoka sweatdropped for a second before he recovered quickly and said, "That's beside the point. What I want from you now is to take action and help Tsuzuki. I should've done this a long time ago but I was too busy angsting around. Still that's ok because that's my job. But I'm also tired of that now and want to get into some action. That's why you and I should defeat Enmacho's Judicial department together."

Konoe rubbed his head and sat behind his desk. "That might prove to be difficult, Kurosaki-kun," he mumbled. 

"Why?"

"Because,...uh...I usually don't do that kind of stuff. Tatsumi-san's the one taking care of it."

Hisoka put a hand to his forehead in frustration. "Of course, how could I forget? Having a source of intimidation right next to your desk who would do all of the gut-requiring tasks without blinking, it's only natural for you to leave it all to him, isn't it? Obviously, in looking menacing and enforcing his will, no one can match the great lord Seiichiro Tatsumi. Ok then, where is he? We'll take him with us too."

Konoe fidgeted even more, "Uh, I...kinda...don't know."

"You don't know where Tatsumi-san is?" Hisoka's eyes popped out.

"Er,...no. He kinda disappeared three days ago."

"And you don't know where?"

"No. But he said something about going to see the Earl."

"Alright then," Hisoka announced, "If that's where he is, that's where we go."

----------------

They found Tatsumi in the Earl's gardens standing in front of the castle and drenched in rain. Hisoka approached him warily as the secretary appeared to be so focused on of the castle's windows that it looked like he would freak out if someone reached for him unexpectedly. 

Hisoka looked at the upturned profile and determined eyes before he cautiously said, "Tatsumi-san, are you--?"

"Not now Kurosaki-kun. Don't you see I'm busy?"

"Yeah," Hisoka replied, "but what exactly are you doing?"

"I'm waiting to see the Earl." Tatsumi replied, his eyes fixed on a window.

"Sure, but do you think standing here all day will make him let you in?"

"I don't need to go in. If I watch his bedroom window from here long enough, I'm sure I'll eventually catch a glimpse of him undressing."

"What? You mean you've been standing here all this time just to see the Earl **naked**?"

"Well, not just that. I came here for **something**. I've just forgotten what it was."

Hisoka put both hands on his head fisting his hair. "Gods, this can't be. All this time, and you don't even know why you came here."

"Oh, I am sure there's a reason. And it will present itself soon enough. Only, I think on the second day I forgot why I was standing here and then I saw the guy move around in his bedroom and got curious to see if I could get a peek at his underwear, or better, what's underneath his underwear." 

"WHAT'S UNDERNEAT??? Tatsumi-san!!!!! The Earl is INVISIBLE. How do you expect to see anything? He's just a mask and two freaking gloves." Hisoka cried.

"He is?" The blue eyes finally turned to him. "Hm, I guess you have a point there, Kurosaki-kun. Wonder whose butt it was I saw by the window the other day?"

Hisoka twitched. "Ugh, eh, Watson…?"

"Ahh, maybe, it _was_ kind of pockmarked and close to the ground. But then I thought--."

Hisoka grabbed Kachou's arm and teleported back to JuOhCho. "Come on, Kachou. This is _really_ not worth wasting our time."

-----------------

No sooner had they arrived at the office than they saw Watari tiptoeing out of his lab. He looked around and turned to leave when he bumped into Hisoka and let out a loud screech. "Eeeee, Bon, you scared me."

Hisoka stared at him. "What? What's going on Watari-san?" 

Watari rubbed the back of his head and gave him an ear-to-ear smile. "Uh, nothing. Just didn't want to make too much noise."

"Is it because of Isorou?"

"Isorou? What? Where? Is he here? Did he see me?"

"No, he's not here. I didn't know you were running away from him."

Watari blinked a few times before letting out a wail and throwing himself into Hisoka's arms. "Bwaaaa! Haaaa, huuhuu! Yeah , that's true, Hisoka-kun. He won't stop chasing me. He won't stop molesting me. He's creeping everywhere and keeps jumping at me whenever he sees me around. It's so freaky." 

He cried like a fountain in Hisoka's arms threatening to soak Hisoka's only orange shirt. "None of you understand. You keep worrying about Tsuzuki-san where in fact I'm the one you should all worry about. Tsuzuki-san doesn't have to hide from a psychopathic freak running after him everywhere and wanting to catch him in private corners." Hisoka rolled his eyes.

Hisoka finally managed to disentangle himself from Watari and say, "Ok, Watari-san. I understand, so calm down and listen, all right? I'm here to ask you to help us rescue Tsuzuki." 

Watari blinked tear filled eyes at him (looks like there is a lot of blinking going on in this story. Sorry, can't find a better word for when a round-eyed, stupefied character blinks cluelessly at the other.) 

"*Sniff* you want to help Tsuzuki-san?" Watari asked, "What about me, then?"

Just then, a door behind him opened and Isorou Masaki, chief prosecutor, evil stalker and some more bad things, stepped into the hallway. Spotting Watari, he immediately marched toward him and put two possessive hands on each of the blonde's shoulders.

"Watari-san! I looked for you everywhere. Lets go have some tea and discuss how I should torment Asato more." He started dragging Watari to an unknown destination. Watari cried.

"Help me, help me, he's going to molest me again. Helllllllp."

"Hold it right there, you pervert." Hisoka yelled. They both turned to look at him, one hopeful, the other irritated.

Hisoka pressed the bridge of his nose. "Cut the uke act, Watari. It doesn't suite you."

Uke Watari suddenly became serious Watari and looked at Hisoka offended. "Now what does that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"It means that you two are both acting totally childish and out of character."

Isorou shrugged. "I'm an original. I can't be out of character 'cause I'm whatever the author makes me. And I like Watari-chan. Plus I'm super cool." He struck a pose.

Hisoka turned to him sharply. "Shut up. You think you're all that but everyone in the office hates you. Plus all the readers hate you too. Go read the reviews if you don't believe me. You made a big mistake messing with Tsuzuki but you made an even bigger mistake messing with me."

"Why? Because you're the heartthrob?"

"Not just that. I'm also super uke and subject of all torture fics. But that's Muraki's territory and only he's allowed to do that. You've overstepped your boundaries big time here."

Isorou blinked (see! Again.) "Muraki? But isn't he the Drag guy who does your hair and manicure every week?"

"WHAAAAT? Who told you that?"

They both turned to Watari who was slowly inching away. At once, he blushed and said, "Well, i...it's not really my fault you see," he turned to Hisoka and pointed at Isorou, "He caught me when I was having tea and pushed me into telling him who Muraki was and what he had to do with you and Tsu. I didn't want to tell him the truth so I told him that Muraki was Tsuzuki's transvestite friend who worked at a beauty parlor you visited every week."

 "WHAT??? AND YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS BETTER THAN THE TRUTH?" Hisoka yelled.

 "HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME YOU STUPID BLONDE, YOU?" Isorou yelled.

 "SHUT UP YOU LAW ABIDING MURAKI WANABE. I'LL GET YOU FOR TRYING TO SNOOP INTO MY PERSONAL LIFE." Hisoka said.

 "YOU'RE TREATHENING ME, KID? YOU ACTUALLY DARE TO TALK BACK TO ME? THAT'S IT, I'M GOING TO GO TORTURE TSUZUKI RIGHT NOW." Isorou said.

 "I'M GOING TO KNOCK YOU OVER THE HEAD AND FEED YOU TO THE FIRST SHIKIGAMI I'LL GET IN THE GENSOKAI ARC." Hisoka said.

The yelling and screaming continued loudly. Neither of them noticed the two birds that were sitting on top of Watari's opened lab door. Two owls with white and brown feathers. 

After the fight went on for a while, one of the owls turned to the other and said, "You think they're gonna kill each other?"

"Nah, they just like to hear their voices bounce around the hall."

"Are you going to tell that other guy about this? The one with the weird purple eyes who's meditating outside?"

"No, not what _really_ happened at least. I'm going to tell him that the old guy beat up his partner pretty bad. Just to see how he'll angst more."

"Whaa, you're mean. I like you. Hey, look. They're at each other's throats now."

"Oh, yeah. I wonder what the blond guy is doing there in the middle."    

"Well, he's either trying to pull them apart or is practicing some form of yoga."

 "I think he's more likely caught between them and is suffocating to his death. Oh, well."

Meanwhile no one paid attention to the kachou who was standing there all that time and who finally sauntered away to his office when the fight got to its peak. He sat behind the desk and put his head in his hands.

'I hope this story has a happy ending or we'll have to go through a sequel and I'll have to take more of people yelling and screaming and totally ignoring me,' he thought.

Just then He heard a voice calling him over an invisible intercom, "Kachou, please report to fanfic #1226. You are needed for a briefing scene and to explain how Muraki kidnapped Hisoka and is now asking for Tsuzuki."

Konoe sighed and rose from his chair. It was true that he didn't get any action these days, but he still had a job to do. 

--------------

There you have it. I know it was bad. Please forgive this lazy, wasted writer. Will provide the angsty stuff soon ;)

Now since I really like reviews and there isn't much to review here, I'll present you with the next question that I've had in mind for a long time:

**"If you had the chance to go to Meifu at this point of the story, which shinigami would you first go to comfort and how?"** I know we all love them all but I'm asking about your most favorite one. And lets imagine I can distract Isorou long enough for you to reach Tsuzuki as well.

Can't wait for your answers. They'll make me very happy and a happy Tessa will write sooner and more :)


	10. A look into the heart of darkness

Wow, it's been such a long time since I've updated. Could it mean I finally have a life? :) Well, I'm back at school (for the 5th time!) and, what do you know, all the work doesn't leave me much time to spend on anything else. But I'll do my best.

As for this chapter, it's full of Hisoka. So Hisoka fans, knock yourselves out because I don't know when I will write so much about him again ;)  (guess I'm making it up to him for the silly intermission) There's also Tatsumi, since a lot of you asked me to give you stats on him. Aside from those two, I think pretty much everyone else has an appearance here, including the shikigamis, and there's the undisclosed appearance of a secret character at the end of the chapter that will set the stage for the next one (hopefully coming soon!)

I got the spelling of the shikigamis' names from Theria.net. Besides that, I don't know jack about the shikigamis and their personalities or the whole GensouKai business. So that whole section is just a product of my own twisted imagination.

---------------------------------

The Trial – Chapter Nine

SohRyu sat on his throne and turned tired eyes on one flustered, fiery woman in front of him.

"So?" She asked.

"What?" he replied, "I told you, I don't know."

"And I told you I don't buy it."

SohRyu shook his head. It was the same argument. Countless times but same damn thing. Suzaku was such a piece of work. She wasn't the type who would take a simple yes or no for an answer and be done with it. She wouldn't back down with a glare either. How ever Tsuzuki managed to bind her to his command was beyond SohRyu's understanding.  

"I haven't been able to feel him for days. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. That can only mean one of two things, either the Baka is dead or deliberately blocking us." The dark haired woman said.

"You're worried that Tsuzuki might be dead?" The emperor asked.

"No, actually, it's the second option that worries me. What kind of mischief could he be up to this time that he has locked us so completely out? And I mean completely. Because, it's like I run into the Great Wall every time I try to reach him."

SohRyu sighed, "Why should it be always some kind of mischief, Suzaku? Why can't you accept that Tsuzuki might want to take a break from us once in a while and go lie on the beach? He is your master, remember? It is not your place to question his decisions."

"Don't give me that nonsense, SohRyu," the phoenix countered, "You know as well as I do that Tsuzuki is never like that. He would NEVER cut his connection with us if he were happy. He always shares his happiness with everyone, especially with us. Remember that time when he finally made a breakthrough with his new, teenage partner? Remember how he came rushing here on a surprise visit just to tell us how happy he was to have made the boy smile? And we didn't even need that to know it because we had felt it the moment he did and were on an all time high way before he showed up. No, if Tsuzuki were happy, we would have been bouncing off the walls right now. His silence can only mean one thing. He's in trouble."

"I second that." A voice cut through the room before SohRyu could answer and they both turned to see the black and white stripes of one agitatedly moving tail and its owner, Byakko.

The young shikigami walked toward the throne and stood next to Suzaku. SohRyu was a little surprised to see that the usual bounce and impish smile were missing from the young man's demeanor. In fact, Byakko wore such a serious expression, for a second the emperor thought it wasn't him but his evil twin - if he had one. Judging by Suzaku's sudden quietness he could tell she had noticed it too. 

Byakko faced the throne and spoke with a voice as solemn as his face. "I know what you know, Emperor. I heard most of it." 

SohRyu's eyes widened. What was Byakko talking about?

Byakko saw the change in his superior and frowned. "You had a meeting with the two Powers, didn't you? Here, two weeks ago."

Suzaku looked at Byakko curiously before turning questioning eyes to her emperor. SohRyu was still silent. He truly didn't know what to say.

Byakko pressed on, "The two high Powers, Lord Mahorath and Lord Enma were here two weeks ago, weren't they? I was walking by the door and I heard voices. I heard what you were talking about."

"Silence!" SohRyu shouted angrily as he stood up, "How dare you confess to eavesdropping?"

Byakko showed the familiar smile with closed, contented eyes. "I was not eavesdropping. I told you I was just walking by. But then I heard Tsuzuki's name and I just couldn't let it be. In case you haven't noticed he's one of my best friends aside from being my master."

SohRyu was breathing heavily with hands fisted at his sides. Still, he was in a tight place unable to chastise Byakko for his devotion to his master. 

"You gave them your consent to carry out their plan, didn't you?" Byakko said, "You said you wouldn't interfere. And as long as Tsuzuki wouldn't want to, you wouldn't allow any of us to interfere either. Isn't that what you said," he opened his eyes looking at him, "Golden Emperor?"

"Why, you..." SohRyu growled and brought up one tightly clenched fist.

Byakko remained unfazed. "You sold out our master, Your Highness, didn't you? At least that's how it seemed to me." 

"Enough," Suzaku shouted, shifting eyes from Byakko to the emperor and back, "What is this all about? SohRyu, tell me what this is about." She was like a ball of fire ready to burst at any moment.

SohRyu sighed and sat back on the throne all anger and heat seeming to have drained out of him in that instant. He put his forehead on his hand with his elbow resting on the armrest and suddenly looked very tired. He was keenly aware of two sets of eyes looking at him expectantly.

The silence stretched. Byakko and Suzaku's gazes didn't waver, until finally…

"I didn't sell him out." SohRyu replied in a tired voice,  "It wasn't my choice. I am only one piece in this elaborate, ancient scheme."

He raised his head and saw them still staring at him, demanding more explanation. Screw it all, he thought. They might as well hear the rest of it.

"It is true. I had an audience with the two Powers sometime ago. They came to discuss the issue of their contest with me."

"Contest? What contest?" Suzaku asked.

SohRyu turned to her, hesitant for a moment before he gave in and answered with an exasperated huff. "Contest... over who owns Tsuzuki. Whom Tsuzuki should succeed." 

Both Suzaku and Byakko looked like they were hit on the head by an anvil. Sohryu had excepted that. Those foolish, fiery young spirits! Never looking at anything closer than a mile away.

"Did you youngsters ever ask yourselves how Tsuzuki managed to harness so many shikigamis on his own? This entire court, the palace and the emperor himself? Did you ever wonder how such a childish, happy-go-lucky slacker could be the most powerful shinigami in the whole Meifu?"

No answer. 

"Tsuzuki is not an ordinary shinigami. He carries the blood of the highest ranking Makai demons called the Royal Descendants. The Descendants of Darkness. But that is not all. He is also a descendant of light because he also carries the mark of angles."

Blink. Two sets of surprised eyes turning into saucers.

SohRyu was himself again, proud in his lecture. He continued, "Our master is the child of both heaven and hell, a descendant of darkness and light. And as such, the highest powers on either side want him. Lord Enma had had the right over him for more than seventy years since his death. Tsuzuki became a shinigami because of his mixed blood. The hybrid nature of his being served to strengthen him since he could draw from both sides to his favor, yet the kind and gentle part was always prominent, making him a top ranking member of Enma's organization without him being even aware of it.

"Nonetheless, Tsuzuki's dark side started showing itself after the case with Sargantanas. The Makai general was destroyed but it only served to attract Makai's attention toward this low-paid, seemingly insignificant shinigami. Grand Duke Astaroth was the first to step forth, asking for Tsuzuki to take the position of Brigadier General in Sargantanas' place (1). It never happened because Mahorath ruled against it. He had seen Tsuzuki's potential and had much higher intentions for him."

Getting fed up with the explanations, Suzaku finally cut in and said, " Yes, all very interesting indeed. But what does that have to do with our current situation with Tsuzuki?"

SohRyu, uncharacteristically, didn't confront her for the interruption. He just shook his head. " The demon world has made its move. After seventy years or so Mahorath is beginning to wonder whether Tsuzuki is _his_ real successor after all. But Enma isn't willing to let him go. The balance of dark and light is a very appealing trait. The two of them came here two weeks ago and told me about their dispute. They are settling it with a trial."

"What is that?" Suzaku snapped.

"I don't know exactly. I only know that it is some sort of test that determines whether Tsuzuki is more inclined towards the dark or the light. It's performed under the supervision of Mahorath's delegates and goes on for several days, weeks even, based on the delegate's judgment. What's more, Tsuzuki has to go through it alone; no one is allowed to interfere, not even the shikigamis."

Suzaku burst out in anger, "So, you're saying, right now, Tsuzuki is in the hands of Makai demons going through gods know what and all we are doing is sitting here on our hands doing nothing?"

SohRyu shot an admonishing glare towards her. "Suzaku! If our connection with our master is broken, it can only have been done so by Tsuzuki himself. It means our master does not _want_ our intervention. If you have no respect for my rule or that of the High Powers, you should at least respect your master's wishes."

Suzaku was far from backing down by the mild reproach. She put her hands on her hips and countered, "Have you forgotten, SohRyu? This is Tsuzuki we are talking about. He would sooner go through the fires of hell than risk other people's lives, including ours. But I would have none of that. We are not called his protectors for no reason." She turned to go, speaking in the same audacious voice. "I don't care what you and the other 'Powers' have decided. I don't care if Enma and Mahorath want to tear each other apart over who owns Tsuzuki. But Tsuzuki is my master and I will protect him under any circumstances. Oh, yes, and did I mention I don't care about the circumstances?"

SohRyu didn't move, but his voice was piercing as he spoke. "You don't have to tell us that, Suzaku-neesan. We already know. After all, it was your lack of care that ended in his summoning of the Black Fire Snake and attempting suicide last time."

That stopped the phoenix dead in her tracks. With hooded, hate-filled eyes she turned to SohRyu, teeth grinding. It took her a while before she could get the rage under control and speak." I will never repeat that mistake again. I made that promise ions ago. So don't you slap that in my face now. I will, however, protect him with my life for as long as I am his. He can hate me for it, or dismiss me. I don't care. As long as he is well and alive."

SohRyu saw her turn and called after her. "But do you know whom you would be challenging if you went to him now? Are you willing to go against both Enma and Hell?"

There was no answer from the retreating form. The black haired woman just walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. Byakko sent worried glances from her to the emperor and back before he decided that it was probably the best if he took his leave too. He had taken only one step when SohRyu addressed him. "Go with her, Byakko. If another disaster happens you will be as much responsible as she is. Try to change her mind and if you can't, keep her at least away from things that aren't her business."

The fuzzy haired young man bowed nervously before disappearing out of the door, taking off in a run as soon as he was out of his superior's sight. He called out after Suzaku as he ran down Tenkuu's corridors. "Nee-san. Nee-san."

But even with SohRyu's words fresh in his ear and his threat as solid and real as a sword dangling over his head, Byakko had no intention of stopping her. Keeping an eye on her, yes. But only to follow the same path as she did to try and save their naïve and gentle master from whatever evil those bastards on thrones had planned for him.     

------------------------

The rain had stopped – for now at least– but the trees were still dripping curtains of rainwater like magical fountains that would mimic the sky's performance after the original downpour was over. 

Hisoka walked through the dripping trees toward the English-gardens and the clearing that surrounded the Castle of Candles like a ring on a jewel. He walked toward the building, knowing that he would eventually come upon the person he was looking for. His empathy told him that person was close, and empathy was usually correct in such situations when tension ran high and shields were rendered down to nothing. He spotted the other where he had expected, right in front of the castle's front face.

Hisoka approached cautiously. From the distance, he could see the figure standing next to a stone statue set on top of a short column. It was a perched gargoyle, wings tucked to its body and mouth open in the rictus of a muted cry. The base column wasn't tall, a little over half of Hisoka's height so Tatsumi, being the tall man that he was, was standing at equal height with the stony beast.

It took him a couple more steps to see that the other man was leaning on the stone. Leaning heavily. Hisoka's breath was stolen when he finally caught a clear sight of his superior and friend. The way the man's clothes were soaking wet. The way his body was sagging against the statue, right hand resting on a slanting wing, his entire right side literary slumped over the side of the effigy. His hair - usually combed in place and tidied like a poster for precision – was now in total disarray. A mass of tousled locks and wet strands either clinging to his forehead or sticking out in whichever direction they liked while spilling their droplets of still oozing rainwater on the already wet-beyond-repair business suit.

Hisoka stood a few feet away from the object of his attention and stared. The way he stood, Tatsumi's back was to him and the vibe he got from the secretary proved that the other man was too exhausted to use whatever Reikan powers he had to detect Hisoka. The boy used the time to prepare himself for when he would meet the man face to face.

He could see Tatsumi was shivering. It wasn't that obvious but Hisoka saw the faint trembles running up and down the taller man's body. How could this be? How could the strict and intimidating secretary of the Shokan division be reduced to this? The man who commanded thunder and lightning to rest and obey when he walked through the halls. The man who made the bravest, most powerful supernatural beings fold and tremble at his feet. How could this miserable, rain-drenched, hunchbacked figure be the same proud and powerful person?

It must be yet another dream.

Had it not been for his promise to Tsuzuki Hisoka might have left after that, or just stayed there until nightfall had forced him to leave. He wasn't afraid to face the other man. But it was just too painful an experience for the empath. He hadn't lied to Tatsumi when he had told him in the office to stay away from him, that his touch burned. It had only gotten worse now. And like before, it was coiled around a jumble of things...guilt, helplessness, and a reminder of the pain and suffering the one they both loved was going through. 

Pulling together all the strength he could find in the recess of his numbed mind – fists balled at his sides- Hisoka closed the remaining few steps between him and the hunched figure and came to stand in front of him. He made himself look up, to meet the sapphire blue eyes and the tired, zoned out gaze he knew would be there.

It was worse than he expected.

"Tatsumi-san...!" 

The cobalt eyes were closed, thick lashes shading drawn cheeks on the bowed head. The wet locks fell over the face but even so, Hisoka could see the worn out expression of a powerful being surrendering to his fate. It was a blinding contrast to the Tatsumi he used to know who seemed to shake the earth and zap the air with the sheer electricity of his power. A man the entire summoning division, perhaps even Konoe, feared and respected as if it were a law in Meifu.

"Tatsumi-san."

When the secretary failed to respond for a second time the younger shinigami decided to approach him. Hisoka took hesitant steps, eyes never leaving the shadowed face of the other, and finally got close enough to put a hand on Tatsumi's shoulder.

"Tatsumi-san, are you ok?"

The blue eyes opened. Dazed and incredulous. The secretary looked at him for a second before moving sharply, as if startled. He lost his grip on the statue and fell forward onto Hisoka, who caught him barely and fought to keep him upright with little success.

"Tatsumi-san. Damn…. It's only me, Tatsumi-san." He struggled under the weight of the barely conscious man before Tatsumi, at last marginally aware, grabbed hold of the mold-covered stone and pulled himself up, looking at Hisoka with clearer eyes.

"Kurosaki-kun. What--what are you doing here?"

Although Tatsumi had regained the control over his muscles Hisoka didn't dare let him go. He said, "I came here to see how you were doing, Tatsumi-san. Are you ok? You look--"

Tatsumi grabbed a stronger hold on the statue, knuckles going white, and pulled himself away from Hisoka. He straightened up – as best as he could – and turned a more composed, serious look towards his employee. Hisoka could tell he was desperately grasping for any remnants of his usual intimidating self and failing, betrayed by his trembling hands and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Kurosaki-kun. Go back to JoOhCho immediately. You are supposed to be on duty right now. What are you doing here?"

Even in the condition he was now, Tatsumi's death glare and stern chastising voice made Hisoka shiver inside. However, he refused to let it get to him. Lending back a supportive shoulder to an obviously straining body that looked ready to collapse at any time and putting the secretary's arm around his neck, the boy cautiously answered, "I'm sorry, Tatsumi-san. I promise I will go back to work soon. I just need to talk to you for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

Tatsumi's glasses glinted dangerously and irritably he tried to pull away again. The action, however, proved to be too much for his fatigued muscles as his legs folded and the momentum of his movement threw him against the column. He cursed at himself but was unable to stop sliding and dropping to the ground. He sat by the column with a bent head, hands fisting the grass around him and body trembling from tension.

Hisoka didn't offer any more help. He just stood there and looked at the sad picture with clouded eyes.

"Go away, Kurosaki-kun," he heard Tatsumi whisper, "You are not needed here. And I am not moving from this spot until those bastards decide to listen to me and acknowledge my presence."

Hisoka felt desperate. He was sad, weak and tired of seeing his close friends hurt. He knew Tatsumi loved Tsuzuki. Heck, everyone in the office more or less did. What he didn't understand – or expect – was to see the older man turned into a psychological mess because of Tsuzuki. Not even in Kyoto did Tatsumi lose his cool like this. Not even after Muraki kidnapped Tsuzuki after his plotting came to fruitation. In fact, Tatsumi was the one who led the pack of them to finally find the amethyst eyed shinigami. And in the end, Tatsumi was the one who'd pulled the two of them out of the fire without losing a grain of control. No, Tatsumi hadn't been a mess in Kyoto; he had been a savior.

It struck him then, the contrast between the two situations. Tatsumi had been the savior in Kyoto. Here...he wasn't sure what Tatsumi really was here. But he knew what Tatsumi desperately strived to be: The same thing. He was virtually killing himself over being the savior again.

Tatsumi the rescuer, the protector, the one who always stepped in to save his troubled friend and keep him from all the hurtful things in the world. Keep him from crying; even if it cost his own unshed tears.

On his knees, Tatsumi was fighting the same battle all over again. Or perhaps having the illusion of fighting it, and losing, and failing his friend. But he wasn't giving up, and in this one-track mission of defeating evil by out-staring it Hisoka was just another annoyance to him. 

" I'm not here to annoy you." He said, echoing his thoughts as he reached down to help the secretary stand. "I'm sure the people in the castle already know you are here and taking a few minutes break from your vigilance wouldn't ruin your efforts. Please, Tatsumi-san. I really need to talk to you. Besides..." he hesitated, but seeing the icy stubbornness starting to return to the cobalt eyes he resigned to twisting the knife, "I promised Tsuzuki." He looked at the man whose arm was propped over his shoulder.

It was the magic word, as he had expected it to be. Hearing the last sentence Tatsumi paused. He was looking straight ahead, not at Hisoka. But Hisoka saw the change in his expression clearly, the fight leaving his face like a wisp of autumn wind. His weight on the younger shinigami's shoulder increased, and Hisoka saw the brown tousled head drop. He had consented, or perhaps surrendered, in the light of his exhaustion and no excuse left to fight.

"In that case..."

They walked to a more secluded area in the relative dryness of a small pavilion. Once again Hisoka had come with supplied, food and tea, and a blanket for the soaked man. He had left them here before he had ventured off to find Tatsumi. Now they both sat on the second blanket Hisoka had spread on the floor of the gazebo and sipped on hot tea poured from a canister. Tatsumi was wrapped in his blanket, tired and drawn; holding his cup like a lifeline. Hisoka had set his own cup to the side and was putting the food he had brought between them. 'I have turned into Meifu's official caterer,' he thought with bitter humor.

There were no sounds except for the usual rustle of trees and birds and animals chirping and squeaking around them. It was a strange composition, them sitting sullenly amidst all that lively nature, Hisoka thought that as he put the last items of food on the blanket.

"Tatsumi-san, have some dumplings. There's fruit too and--"

"Why did you come, Kurosaki-kun?"

Hisoka faltered. He sat back looking at his hands in his lap, muttering, "I wanted to know where you were. We haven't seen you since the day you left the office."

"And...?"

Hisoka finally looked up. "We need you Tatsumi-san. We miss you and need you. Things don't make much sense when you are not around."

Tatsumi stared at his tea and the steam that was rising in the air. "When I am not around...," contemplative. Quiet. Then suddenly, "Anything about Tsuzuki?" Sharp blue eyes fixed on Hisoka in a flash; so abrupt it took the boy off guard.

Hisoka found himself treading cautiously with his answer. "He--I saw him--once."

"How is he?"

Gods, this was not easy. Not with those twin azures piercing him even if he wasn't looking at them. "He was--all right, I guess. He's holding up."

"Kurosaki-kun." 

Hisoka flinched at the serious tone and saw Tatsumi regarding him with the same expression he used often when he was scolding someone in the office. 

"Don't lie to me, Kurosaki-kun. I'm not a child to be pitied." There was tiredness, even a bit of a plea, laced with the threat. Or he might have just imagined it. Hisoka was so tired himself.

So he let the façade drop. "He is put through a lot."

"More torture?" Even not looking, the dangerous spark in the blue eyes was hard to miss as Tatsumi filled in the words Hisoka was leaving out of his speech.

"All sorts of things." Hisoka said, taking a deep breath. He might as well say it. "I saw his nightmare. It was no ordinary one."

Tatsumi just stared. For a while it looked like he wanted to ask some things but couldn't decided what to bring up first. Until Hisoka turned his head and met the volatile blues with his sad greens.

"Tatsumi-san. You have known Tsuzuki for a while, haven't you? Did you know anything about his past, before he became a shinigami?"

It was Tatsumi's turn to look away.  He remained silent for a while. Then, "Yes, parts of it. What exactly are you talking about?"

Fidgeting, Hisoka replied, "I was wondering about--if you knew--what happened that night."

"The night he went insane?"

"Yeah."

"Was that what the nightmare was about?" Tatsumi asked.

"Y...Yeah."

"Then you already know."

Hisoka blushed, yet he had to know the answer. "Tatsumi-san.…"

"Yes."

Hisoka peered at him. "Is that why Tsuzuki became a shinigami? Did he really kill all those people?"

"Yes, he did. And yes, that is why he was chosen to be a shinigami."

"But--but I thought only those who have strong connections with the living become shinigamis."

A shade of sadness passed over Tatsumi's face, an echo of the feelings he was hiding inside. "He was sentenced to become a shinigami to pay for those deaths."

Hisoka's hands tightened in his lap. *Sentenced*. To become a guardian of death and kill more. And Tsuzuki, of all people. Who harbored so much compassion in his heart for people and felt so much pain.

"Tatsumi-san. I think--I think there's more to this trial than we are told."

Tatsumi's eyebrows rose.

" I saw someone - a woman – in Tsuzuki's dream."

"A woman!" Tatsumi frowned as he turned to look at Hisoka. "What did she look like?"

Hisoka all of a sudden felt uncomfortable. "I don't know. She was kind of strange. Long blond hair, tall figure. Long black dress with gold hemming and flabby sleeves. And some kind of mantle over her shoulders. She looked like a sorceress, or something like that. If such a thing even exists."

Tatsumi seemed to ponder it for a while. "Did you notice anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think Tsuzuki called her Ayaka."

Tatsumi leaned his chin on his hand. "Ayaka! Hmm, I haven't heard that name before. But the description you just gave resembles a demon from Makai."

"Demon? What kind of demon?"

"One that goes by the name of Nourian. I have only heard of her. She seems to be a master of illusion and manipulation."

"Nourian..." Hisoka sat back thinking about what he had just heard. Manipulation and illusion. That seemed to be what was happening last night. Tsuzuki himself was in the dream, and the woman was telling him to look at the scene, as if she was the one who had created it.

"If what you saw was real, Kurosaki-kun, then I must agree with you that something else is going on, involving Makai and demons no less," Tatsumi said while starting to rise onto his feet. "And that's exactly what I need to find out."

Hisoka's eyes followed him with concern. But Tatsumi seemed calmer and more in control after the small rest he had taken. Sometimes it astonished Hisoka as to how strong the older man was. There was something at the back of his mind, something he needed to ask his friend.

"Tatsumi-san?"

"Yes." He turned around to look at the boy still sitting on the floor while he pulled the blanket from his shoulder and started folding it in his arms.

"Tatsumi-san." Hisoka hugged his knee and looked down, suddenly looking very small and vulnerable. "How can I help Tsuzuki?"

Tatsumi's hands on the blanket stilled. "You've already done all you can, Kurosaki-kun. Don't beat yourself up about something you have no control over--"

"No, I mean overall. After--after what I saw happened that night--and what those men did too him before--. Tatsumi-san..." Bright green eyes turned upward to show sadness and a desperate plea to the only man that would understand it. "How can I help him bear that?"

A small, warm smile touched Tatsumi's lips. He bent down next to the hunched boy and put his hand on his back. "Just be there for him. Don't worry too much about it. You may not know it but you have already done so much."

Hisoka's eyes softened. "Really? You mean that, Tatsumi-san?"

"I really do." Tatsumi stood up. Full of determination and looking straight at the castle now. Despite his averted eyes he addressed Hisoka again. 

"Finding you might have been the best decision I ever made regarding Tsuzuki-san." He said in a quiet voice before starting to walk away and missing Hisoka's surprised expression.

Hisoka wanted to follow Tatsumi. But the will was simply not there and some voice in the back of his head told him to stay. He just watched as the tall man traced his way back to his post and stood there, still as the statue he rested his hand on. He didn't question Tatsumi's motive, or the effectiveness of the way he had chosen in his battle. He knew Tatsumi and Tatsumi was a man who, in the end, would get what he want. Even if it meant sanctioning himself in front of people who intended to ignore him. There were many powerful beings in Meifu but none had the resilience and the headstrong determination of Seiichiro Tatsumi. Hisoka felt inwardly contented that he had him as a friend and even more happy that Tsuzuki had him for a strong and passionate protector who cared for him so much. It meant that Hisoka could worry less about being the only one who had to support Tsuzuki with his present perils and his memories of a dark and troubled past.

-----------

Later that afternoon Hisoka was in the cafeteria pouring himself a cup of tea and reading a book. The place was empty as most shinigamis were on the job. He was so deep into the third chapter while putting the lid on the cup that he didn't hear the soft click of the door behind him. Only when someone reached around and took the book out of his hand did he look up, his stomach flip-flopping instantly at the sight of whom it was.

Isorou flipped through the book quickly, then turned the cover to check the title. He was as casual as any other coworker, dropping by to say hi and checking out his colleague's latest read.

"Hmm, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King! Sounds interesting. Don't remember reading that."

Hisoka opened his mouth to say something but found his voice gone. Whether it was from fear or the rising anger he couldn't tell. He pretty much felt like a prey caught in the mouth of a giant spider (2).

Isorou put the book down on the counter behind Hisoka and leaned forward with his hand on the same counter. The way he stood, he was effectively trapping the boy.

"Tell me something, kid."

Hisoka found himself sending a quick look towards the door. Isorou followed it amusedly before turning back. "Don't look for someone to come and save you. There is no one here. I've been waiting a long time to have this conversation with you. You and I alone. You won't be going anywhere." To emphasize his point he leaned even closer, almost touching.

Hisoka tried to get his nerves under control and remain calm. He grabbed unto his anger, his hatred for this man, yet he couldn't stop his eyes from flickering toward the door constantly. 

"I see." Isorou smiled, his voice going down to a purr, "So that was his function to you. Someone who'd come and rescue you whenever you got yourself into a wedge. Interesting." He raised his hand and stroked a cheek, drawing the back of his fingers down the side of Hisoka's face in a caress, making him instinctively shiver and pull back despite the way he was trapped.

"Is that how you two got close? Was it because he saved you so many times that you fell for him so deeply? Is that why you feel so much guilt over not being able to save him now that the situation is reversed?"

It was too much. With strength he didn't know he had Hisoka shoved the taller man aside and stepped away. "Don't fucking touch me."

In a blink of an eye Isorou was back to his icy stuck-up self, folding both arms over his chest and staring dangerously at the young boy. "Watch your tongue. I am the one issuing orders here. Unless you want to join your friend."

Hisoka's breath hitched from the magnitude of his fury, barely restraining himself from attacking the other man and strangling him to death.

"Don't--don't even try pulling that shit with me again. Your threats--they're getting so God damned old." 

"Ah, really? And you aren't afraid anymore?" Fast as a cobra he was on Hisoka again, this time grabbing him by both wrists and bodily shoving him against a table.

"Let go." Hisoka yelled.

"Not until I have disciplined you enough to understand the meaning of respect." Isorou barked, pushing the boy's hands back and pressing them onto the table. He locked eyes with him.

"Twice you broke the law with me. Twice. And I let you get away with it. And then last night you breached his dream and even tried to talk to him. When I said stay away I meant body and mind." He squashed the hands he was holding further onto the table until the boy let out a cry.

"Do you know what he is doing right now?" Isorou's voice had dropped to a hiss, a menacing one, "I think I should tell you because it might shake your conscience a little. He has been under the rain for the past two days. I guess you already knew that, didn't you? He is now wet as a mouse and can't stop shivering. Then again, that's what he had been doing the entire time. And he is beginning to appreciate my authority even more, unlike you. Do you know that he asked – no, begged – me for a break the other day? Do you know that he called me Isorou-sama when he did that?  See, with the right incentive, everyone will come around."

Hisoka was trying to pull his hand away when blinding rage hit him like a slap in the face. Unwisely he lashed out, freeing a hand and swinging it to strike the other on the head before the wrist was once again caught and pinned to the table. Panting, Hisoka raised his head to see Isorou's face very close. 

And spat in it. 

"You are lying. Tsuzuki would never do that, NEVER. You're just saying that because you have this sick hobby of playing with other people's emotions."

Isorou went still, his face only inches away from Hisoka. He had a mad look in his eyes, as if he couldn't believe someone would be so bold as to actually spit at him. The spittle on his face slid down his cheek and dropped from his chin. For a moment it seemed like they were both holding their breaths, waiting for the other to react. 

Until Isorou finally did. 

His mouth curved up in a dangerous parody of a smile, slow and malicious like a snake curling. He pushed Hisoka's left arm toward his right and trapped both hands behind the boy's back with one of his much larger ones. The free hand then came up to trail a caressing touch down Hisoka's face and neck. Despite himself, the boy trembled at the touch. He felt powerless against this new, nauseating change of behavior.

"You know, now that I look at you up close, I can see what I had been missing so far. You have fire in you. And you are indeed beautiful. Even more so when you are angry." 

Hisoka increased his struggle but Isorou casually brushed the tip of one finger across his forehead and Hisoka felt himself freeze. He couldn't tell whether it was a spell or his own, frightened reaction to what the man was doing to him but no matter how much he tried he couldn't unclench his muscles. Panic escaping his tight reign to reflect in his green eyes, he stared at the man towering over him whose eyes now had turned from stern to lustful. The only response his body would give was a shudder.

Isorou continued stroking Hisoka's cheek, now moving their bodies closer so that they touched in several places." I was wondering why that doctor had shown interest in you. It bewildered me, seeing that you were basically a brat. But now I can tell. You're the type who just begs to be molested, stained, shown the true meaning of submission, like I did with your lovely friend with the purple eyes. He finally surrendered to me you know, like you surrendered to the white doctor."

Hisoka's teeth had begun to chatter. "Who--how--do you know--'bout Muraki?"

"How? Why, a friend told me about him."

"Lie...you do--n't have --friends." Hisoka managed between pants and the clatter of his teeth.

"I DO have friends." Isorou growled as his hands tightened on him to a level that caused pain. Like a ball dropping his mock gentleness disappeared to be replaced by something even more dangerous. He pushed Hisoka further onto the table, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and bending him backwards while shoving his own scrunched up, angry face into Hisoka's field of vision.

"Don't ever dare say anything about my friends. I have many. I have good ones. I might not be as ridiculously popular as Mr. do-nothing out there but I command respect, and I don't consider having clowns like you shinigami as friends an asset."

Isorou's hand went from his collar to his throat, closing around and squeezing hard, but it took Hisoka a few seconds to realize the pressure wasn't the only thing causing his asphyxiation. The moment those angry fingers touched him he was knocked over by the sheer power of the sensations surging into him. Emotions, turmoil, images and painful reminiscence...filling every inch of space around him like the waters of a lake he had plunged into.

Isorou...Hisoka was seeing him...on his knees, tied to a tree, or something scary that looked like a tree. Weird outfit, not neat and tidy as usual but shabby, disheveled and...torn.

There was a huge shadow obscuring Hisoka's view, not a clear form but the outline of a bulky, masculine body. A beast's body. Towering over the man. Hisoka couldn't see too clearly but he was stunned at the sight of Isorou's frightened, vulnerable eyes before they were hidden behind the shadow. It was evil. The whole scene reeked of hate and betrayal and sick enjoyment of pain. Even without seeing, Hisoka knew this was a demon set on torturing the fallen man. The scream that resounded in his head a moment later confirmed it.

He was pushed away with enough force to topple over the table and the chair behind it and fall head first to the ground. It was a good thing that his senses kicked in the last moment to make him raise his arms and avoid impact to his scull. He lay on the ground, dazed, wondering what had happened.

He had seen something inside Isorou's mind, something he should not have. He sat up shakily to look at Isorou standing several feet away, breathing heavily with a look of shock on his face.

"Y-you--went through the--trial!" Hisoka said.

Isorou's eyes stayed on the boy. It was clear that he was fighting to get his reaction under control. With obvious effort he calmed his breathing but couldn't get a word out before Hisoka's next incredulous declaration.

"You were a shinigami. Just like us. And you were sentenced to the trial." The revelation was as astounding to Hisoka's own ears as it was in the way it reflected on Isorou's face. The man actually took a step back, staring at Hisoka like he was a newly discovered alien species. But, true to his character, he regained his bearing fast.

Which meant his shock turned into anger in an eyeblink. Hisoka barely had time to get on his feet before the prosecutor went for him with unleashed fury. Hisoka was still confused but forced his mind to dispel the fog and get himself under control. It was a matter of life and death now, as Hisoka saw no awareness in the smoldering gray eyes. Isorou was coming for the kill and Hisoka had no choice but to dodge the attacks and hope for a rescuing intervention from the heavens.

It finally came in the form of a lasso looping around Isorou's waist and pulling him away just as the madman had managed to tackle Hisoka and pin him to the ground. Isourou's hands were on Hisoka's throat once again when, seemingly out of nowhere, a rope looped around him and lifted him off the boy. Hisoka breathed a sigh of relief as the weight was taken off of his chest and he took deep gulps of air, staying there for a while to get his breathing and trembling limbs under control. After all the events that had happened around him in the space of a few minutes he felt both physically and psychologically drained to want to move just yet. He was still too much in awe of what he had discovered to guess or even care who his rescuer was.

That was when a tall figure with wavy golden hair and amber eyes appeared over him, a small feathery creature flapping close to his left shoulder. 

"Watari-san."

The scientist reached a hand to help him off the floor and said, "So sorry, Bon, I was careless. I should have known you were alone here with him. Of course that monster would attack you with no one around. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. What happened to Isorou?" Hisoka asked as he dusted his clothes.

Watari frowned, "I don't know. I came in and saw him attacking you and did the first thing that came to my mind, which was to draw a lasso - on a napkin no less – and give it life to catch him and pull him off of you. But then, even before I could fully dissolve the magic, he untangled himself and stormed out of here. I can sort of guess why he would want to attack you, Bon, but for the life of me I can't think of any reasons why he would run away so fast."

" I can." Hisoka said quietly, busying himself with putting the tipped-over table and chair in place.

Watari's eyebrows knotted. "You can? What do you mean?"

Hisoka shook his head. "Let's go to a more private place, Watari-san. There's something I need to tell you." With that, he turned to pick up his book that Isorou had abandoned on the counter and walked toward the door exiting the cafeteria.

Watari stood there for a moment not knowing what to make of this all. What did Hisoka mean by saying he understood the prosecutor's odd behavior? What had happened between them before Watari had showed up to rescue the boy? Wasn't Hisoka supposed to be more upset coming out of the shock of the evil man's attack? What was this sudden need for chatting about? 

Watari scratched his head and called to 003 to sit on his shoulder. Seeing as he wouldn't get any of those answers by simply standing there, the amber eyed man set out to follow the empath to his chosen place where they could sit in private and talk about what happened hoping that the boy's explanation would shed some light on what right now seemed to him like a big, complex jigsaw puzzle with the pieces scattered all over the place.

----------------------

Cool, comforting hands touching his cheeks, raising his rain-damped face up in a silent request that he would open his eyes and look. He didn't - couldn't - for a while, before one soft hand moved over his eyes to coax them to open. Tsuzuki tried, lifting heavy lids to the sky, and saw plum eyes framed by silky blonde hair and a white robe flowing around a slender, feminine body. Hovering above him was a sad, concerned face that looked at him like a mother would look at a sick child. The hands on the sides of his face holding his head were gentle, like the sweet caress of butterfly wings.

He couldn't bear it. He had to close his eyes again. He couldn't bear the lie in those beautiful, gentle eyes. Not when the memory of cruel accusations in front of a screen full of flashbacks was still fresh in his mind.

"Tsuzuki-san, please look at me." The woman said in a soft voice.

Tsuzuki tried to pull his head away. But his weakness didn't allow him to break the hold of those petal smooth hands. 

"Leave me alone, Ayaka. I can't stand it anymore," he said.

Ayaka didn't let go. Insistently, she turned his head back to her even though the lavender eyes remained closed.

"Please, Tsuzuki-san. I have something important to tell you."

Tsuzuki's eyes opened into wary slits. "What else do you have to say that you haven't already the last time you were here--tormenting me?"

That caused Ayaka to drop her hands. They fell to her sides and an expression of true sadness filled her eyes. "I--I didn't torment you."

Without the support of the woman's hands, it took Tsuzuki only a second to drop his head. He didn't care that he couldn't see his companion anymore. He was in too much agony for that.

"Really? Funny, it seemed otherwise to me." He whispered bitterly.

"T--that-- wasn't me."

Fueled by anger, Tsuzuki painfully raised his head just to look the woman straight in the eye. The effort caused his eyes to tear up - or was it the feeling of betrayal? – yet he didn't pay it any attention. "I saw you," he said, "You talked to me. You even addressed me by name. How can you deny it? You forced me to relive the worst hour of my life." The tears came down to stain his cheeks and no matter how much he tried he couldn't keep the sob out of his voice.

Ayaka looked away, holding her hand to her lips as if trying to suppress her own sobs from escaping. After a while she turned back, calmer, and said, "I can't explain to you what happened then. I can't tell you how sorry I am and that it truly, honestly, wasn't the real me that hurt you so bad. I just hope that someday you'd understand."

Her hand returned to caress and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Like a magical touch, it soothes his hurts away and for the first time, Tsuzuki realized that it wasn't as unbearable as it had been before. Perhaps his body had gone numb and didn't feel the pain anymore. Or perhaps it was another trick from the woman in white. Whatever the reason, Tsuzuki wasn't in the shape or mood to question. He had been in so much pain in the past several days that the absence of it – be it just a small part, be it a trick – was enough to make him sigh in relief.

He was however surprised when he opened his eyes next – after his expression of ease – to see Ayaka's eyes filled with tears.

Her hands continued their comforting caress, but her voice was full of sorrow when she spoke. 

"Be prepared, Tsuzuki-san. Be strong. Something terrible is coming."

Tsuzuki couldn't suppress his half-attempted laugh. "Something terrible? Could it be worse than--?"

The hands grabbed his face and turned it to look at her intense gaze. She nodded soberly.

Tsuzuki lowered his eyes. "I--don't care. I'm already done for."

Ayaka let go. She walked away, stopping after a few steps and turning to look back at the bound shinigami.

"Be strong, Tsuzuki. You can make it through this. Remember one thing: Nightmares are illusions. They can touch you and surround you, hurt you in ways you couldn't imagine. They can show you your most horrible dreams, your most painful memories or most desired wishes. But illusions know nothing about feelings, they don't cry, and they don't bleed."

She walked off after that, leaving Tsuzuki to flounder in his confusion. He stopped thinking about the meaning of those words soon after she disappeared and simply basked in the small comfort the temporary ease of pain afforded him. He let his head fall again and rested his weight on his arms taking some of the tension off of his knees. After so many days, he had somehow found ways to balance the hurt and make it less cutting. Letting his eyes shut, he tried to find the small place in his mind where he liked to run off and hide whenever life became too unbearable. His own little comfort zone.

It was then that he heard the well-known swish of the long coat, the signature steady footsteps and the rustle of cloth that heralded a familiar approach. Permanent residents of his most recurring nightmares. He didn't look up; willing himself to believe it was another dream. The footsteps got closer, clearly stepping on wet grass now. _Real_ wet grass.

He still didn't open his eyes. Not even when soft, cold hands – white hands, hands he knew from a time he had spent in shock induced numbness – lifted his face to the unseen visitor. He started shaking like a leaf, not wanting to see, not wanting to know it was there. But who could forget that silky smooth touch? That thrilled hiss of exhaled breath at finding a treasure sought after for so long? That brush of expensive sleeve-fabric against goose-pimpled flesh? 

He didn't want to see. He didn't want to know. He wanted it to be not true.

/Something terrible is coming./

"Hello, Tsuzuki-san. It is so nice to see you again."

He couldn't deny it any longer. Not after that suave, velvety voice reached his ears and filled his universe in a multitude of echoes. Tsuzuki opened terrified, hopeless eyes to the one looming above him in an unfocused gaze.

His vision filling with pure white.

Tbc.

(1) Manga, Volume 4 "Saint Michel"

(2) The LOTR fans will get the reference (even if I myself am not one;) )


	11. Phase 5: The sword against a nightmare

Please, don't hit me in the head. I know it took me too long to update this. To all who'd been following this story I want to apologize for keeping this chapter hostage for so long. The truth is, I was done writing it ages ago, but the correction and proofreading clashed with my end of term projects, and it got stashed away until break time rolled in. I'll make sure the next chapter doesn't meet the same fate (although school will start in less than a week)

Ok, since it's been a while, here is a summary of what happened so farfor those of you who can't remember:

**What happened so far :**~*~Almost a week after the start of Tsuzuki's ordeal, Hisoka goes to see Tatsumi – who's been standing in front of the Earl's castle all that time to gain his attention – and talks to him about what he'd seen in Tsuzuki's dream, and Ayaka in particular. Later he's attacked by Isorou in the cafeteria and gets to see the thoughts and memories of the evil prosecutor, which reveal to him that Isorou himself had been a shinigami who was put to the trial. Meanwhile, Tsuzuki senses someone coming to visit him only to find out it's a familiar figure clad in white.~*~

Ok, I think I don't have to tell you who the white-clad figure is. But since he's here this chapter deserves an extra **warning:** The part with Muraki visiting Tsuzuki is **NOT** PG-13. You can say it's more PG-15, nothing big and nasty. But c'mon, it's Muraki. And anyone who knows me knows I'm a big fan of non-con MurakixTsuzuki. No, I don't think there is any love lost between them. Muraki's only there to hurt our poor Tsuzuki. So be warned, as there will be some explicitness. 

Now, on to the story. 

--------------------

The Trial – Chapter Ten

"Shinigami???"

The accented voice turned a bit squeaky at the end, the owner obviously trying not to raise it too high despite his surprise.

Hisoka nodded. That was his only reaction while deep in thought and looking at the floor instead of the speaker.

They were in the library, in a back room somewhat hidden behind the bookshelves and half-walls. It was a place Hisoka used to hide from Saya and Yuma when they were over for a visit, or when he desperately needed a read without Tsuzuki distracting him every five seconds. It was the only place he could hope Isorou wouldn't be able to find them.

"So the bastard had a taste of his own medicine." Watari commented contemptuously.

"Ahum!" Hisoka confirmed, "Question is, why?" He turned to his companion all wide-eyed.

Watari's features softened as he put a hand on Hisoka's shoulder. "Bon, you sure you're all right?"

Covering his friend's hand with his own and gently removing it from his shoulder, Hisoka gave a firm nod, feeling slightly awkward under the older shinigami's gaze and even blushing slightly. "I'm fine, Watari-san. I just want to make sense of what I saw."

The concern in Watari's eyes didn't go away. "Why? What do you care?"

"Because it might mean a way to help Tsuzuki."

"All right. If that's what you think--"

"I want to know why he was sentenced to the trial like that. What was his crime? That man has nothing in common with Tsuzuki as far as I know. So why the same punishment?" Hisoka said.

"Maybe he wasn't a cold-hearted bastard before he went through the trial? Couldn't it be that when he was a shinigami, he was more like Tsuzuki and then his punishment turned him into the jerk that he is?"

Hisoka reflected on that for a while, then said, "No. I didn't sense anything like that from him. But I guess I won't find out unless I go back and dig deeper."

Watari looked incredulous. "You want to go back and have a second waltz with that awful man? Are you out of your mind, Bon?"

"I didn't say I wanted to go back to the man himself, just his memories that are locked in my head." Hisoka said.

"You can do that?" Watari asked in a surprised voice.

"Sometimes," Hisoka answered, "If the memory is fresh enough or intense enough I might be able to go back and look for more detail. I guess it's because it is all saved in my subconscious, or wherever it is that these things go."

"But, … wouldn't that be painful in some way?"

"No." Hisoka closed his eyes and started his focus. "It might be, I don't know. I need to see. Besides, I won't stay too long." With that, he started concentrating, going deeper and deeper into his own mind looking for the pieces of information he was after.

Although Watari couldn't see what was going on inside Hisoka's head he could pinpoint the exact moments when the empath hit something important by the subtle winces in his body. After a while it was all tense expression and occasional frowns that passed over the empath's face as he continues digging deeper and deeper and turning the memory over to try and find answers. When the intensity of the experience appeared to be too much for the boy and droplets of perspiration started appearing on his forehead, Watari reached over with his arm to grab and shake him out of it. Hisoka opened his eyes just then and took a couple of deep breaths before turning to him.

"I think--I know now." He said.

"What? What did you see, Bon?" Watari asked.

"He was a shinigami, but not like Tsuzuki, not even close."

"What do you mean?"

Hisoka turned his face looking straight ahead, seeing something only visible to him. "He was-- like an extreme form of Terazuma. Bitter. Resentful. Hating everyone. Kind of like what he is right now but much more reserved. And he had no friends."

"But Terazuma has Wakaba, and we're all his friend one way or another. Didn't he have a partner or something?" Watari asked.

Hisoka shook his head. "I don't know. The information wasn't there. And there wasn't anything about why he was sentenced to the trial either."

"So… you mean that's it?"

"I guess. Except…there is something I can't quite put my finger on. A kind of feeling shadowing everything whenever I go back to the memory. You know, like the static you hear when you're talking on your cellphone and there's bad reception. I think it has to do with how Isorou felt after he was put to the trial. All he could think of was how his friends had abandoned him."

Watari wondered, "Oh really? I thought you said he had no friends."

"In truth, yes. But I'm suspecting that in his mind, he still considered them - the others -his friends. And it shattered him to see that no one cared for him once he was in trouble."

"How foolish." commented Watari, but in his mind he was back in the teahouse, to the time he had witnessed Isorou's sudden, quiet nuances that had subtly suggested at something deeper and more wounded underneath the cruel exterior. He knew that his hunches had been at least partially correct. And the way the man acted around Watari… ridiculous was the only word to describe it. It looked like Isorou simply had no comprehension of what friendship really meant.

"The thing that administered his ordeal was a real monster, a scary one. And it took much pleasure in hurting him." Hisoka's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, is that so?" Watari snorted, "The same way _he _takes pleasure in hurting Tsuzuki?"

The boy's eyes darkened at the mention of Tsuzuki's name. "Not exactly," he noted, "He hurts Tsuzuki way more than he is supposed to because of us. He is jealous that we care so much for him and won't leave him alone."

"Why, that bastard, I'll show him--" Watari said, almost out of his chair.

"There is more." 

"Huh?" Watari turned, confused at Hisoka's thoughtful expression who wasn't even looking at him.

"The prosecutor in his trial…call me a conspiracy theorist but I think he was no representative from Enma. I mean Enma doesn't hire demons to do his jobs, does he? A thing like that can only come from one place, and it's not Meifu or ChiJou."

"Makai?"

The boy nodded slightly.

"My God. You must be kidding. Are you sure?" Watari breathed as he straightened in his chair, his hands all of a sudden getting cold and clammy.

"There is one way to find out." Hisoka started to rise, "We're gonna have to do some research on the computer."

They walked to one of the close by stations. Since Watari was the master there, he sat behind the computer and started typing at a speed that made Hisoka dizzy. "Ok, Bon. Tell me what I should look for." He asked as the reflection of the data currently on the screen crawled over his bifocals. 

"Check for Isorou Masaki." Hisoka said.

"All right." Watari started typing and soon enough, he had a file pulled out.

"What do you know? Bon, I think you were right. It says here that Isorou Masaki had been a shinigami about…uh, 25 years ago. His term was finished after only a couple of cases and he moved on."

"Nothing about the trial."

"No, it's just a bunch of dates and numbers."

"Search for a record of his cases."

The typing resumed. Watari was efficient and fast and he even managed to hack into some password protected databases. But they didn't seem to have anything more. It was like Isorou had disappeared into a black hole after his term as a shinigami had ended. Of course that was not too surprising for someone who had officially moved on. The problem was that Isorou was currently in JoOhCho with them and neither in Heaven nor in Hell like an ordinary, passed-on spirit should be.

Finally Watari sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "Well, at least we know he doesn't work for EnmaDiao. Not officially anyway."

Hisoka stared at the screen. "You didn't find anything else on him?"

"Nope. Nothing, nada, zero, zilch. He's a drop in the ocean."

A dead end then, but Hisoka had somehow expected it. He took a moment to reflect, then said, "Let's do another search. For Yano Ayaka." 

Watari raised his head, questioning eyes staring at Hisoka from behind glasses. "She a shinigami too?" he asked.

"I don't know," Hisoka replied, "We'd have to do a broader search for her." 

So they did. Watari again typing his way through lists and databases, until he finally hit a mark.

"That her?"

Hisoka looked at the screen displaying the one page profile with a thumbnail picture on the side. His eyes went straight to the photo.

"That's her."

"Well, that's very interesting. Because according to this information, she is an angel?" said Watari.

Hisoka was surprised. He looked at the profile more closely. Lo and behold, it was a database record from Heaven.

"It's true." He whispered.

"Let's have a correction here," Watari announced, coughing to clear his voice. "What's true is that she _was_ an angel." 

"What do you mean?" Hisoka asked.

Watari pointed at the date on the record. "It's dated 17 years ago. And the file hasn't been updated since."

A frown appeared on Hisoka's forehead. "Is this all you can find on her? Can't you search more?"

"Sure," the scientist replied, "If you'd tell me what exactly we are searching for, and why?"

Hisoka felt distracted. He was surprised at the revelation, and the fact that Ayaka actually did exist instead of being a product of Tsuzuki's pain muddled brain like he had thought at first.

Finally he explained, "It may sound bizarre, but I think she is the other prosecutor on Tsuzuki's case." 

"Really?" Watari exclaimed, "So how come we've never seen her?"

"I don't know. I guess that's another thing we'd have to find out."

"But Bon, how do _you_ know about all this?"

"I saw her, in Tsuzuki's dream."

"Ahhh."

Watari didn't ask anything more. Hisoka's multifaceted empathetic powers seemed to be explanation enough. 

After another fifteen minutes of search the chemist-turned-researcher gave up once again and folded his hands behind his head.

"It's pointless, Bon. There's absolutely nothing else on this lady. She must have disappeared into the same hole that Isorou did."

Hisoka was about to smirk at the idea when the possibility of what Watari just said hit him square in the forehead.

'They've both disappeared.' Two souls belonging once to organizations that now seemed to know nothing about them. There was only one way someone could get so utterly lost. One place that would swallow you up so wholly you wouldn't be recognized as yourself even if you returned.

"Watari-san, would you please do another search for me?"

"Of course, Bon. What name?"

"Nourian."

Watari got to it immediately. It looked like he was getting more skillful at it. Or maybe because there was more news on this newest search there than any of the previous ones. Either way, after only a few taps on the keyboard he came up with an answer.

"She's a demoness. Is that whom you were looking for?" Watari asked.

Hisoka wasn't paying attention. He was transfixed on the image that was slowly downloading onto the screen, already knowing what it was without having to wait for it to fully show up.

"Holy Enma," Watari exclaimed, his attention drawn back to the screen, "Isn't that the same Ayaka lady we'd just searched for? Why is she here again?"

"She's here… because she is the demon.  Her name is Nourian." Hisoka murmured.

"But, but…" Watari said, eyes shifting between Hisoka and the screen.

"I know, Watari-san. It is as confusing to me as it is to you. But I'm thinking… maybe we've stumbled upon a secret here." 

"What kind of a secret? That this Ayaka is an angel who cosplays as a demon?" 

"No," Hisoka said, reading fast through her profile. "It's more complicated than that."

He leaned forward and started typing on the computer, searching for both names at the same time. Only one page came up, but it was what he was looking for.

"What is it, Bon?"

"Guessed as much. Read this." Watari leaned forward and peered at the article on the screen: 'Yano Ayaka, a white angel from the middle ranks who suffered from a rare condition, harbored the spirit of a demon inside of her. At the beginning of the 8th era the demon started appearing in her more often, sometimes gaining complete control over her body and mind. At about the end of the first decade, Yano Ayaka was renounced of her angel status and sent to Makai for reassignment. From then on she was known as _Nourian_ and her demon side started exhibiting its true powers. It is believed that Yano Akaya is still a part of the demon although, officially declared a fallen angel, no one from Heaven associates with her or speaks her name. Presently of the two, Nourian is the only one who still functions within an organization.'

"Wow," Watari breathed, "multiple personality disorder up here in heaven? Never thought I would see one with such a big rift."

Hisoka shook his head. "I can't believe Makai is involved in this so much that they would send a demon for the trial, even if it's a half-baked one. I'd bet my soul Isorou is working for them too. I knew from the beginning that there was something not quite right about him."

"I don't like the sound of this, Bon." Watari said, scratching his head and looking at the computer. "Why would Makai want to hurt Tsuzuki? What do they have against him that they would create such an elaborate scheme? What about those weird silent spirits Isorou was talking about? Where they demons from Hell too?"

Hisoka put his chin on his hand. "That's what we have to find out, I guess. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole spirit thing was a big sham too. This Nourian I've heard is supposedly very skillful in illusions and manipulations."

Watari patted Hisoka on the shoulder. "Good job, Bon. Now don't you worry your little head too much about it, ok? We'll find out pretty soon what this is all about. It's good that we've discovered this much already. It might even be good enough to save Tsuzuki…"

He broke off as he felt the shoulder beneath his hand shudder. He looked at Hisoka worriedly, watching as the boy almost doubled over and hugged his slender body, breathing hard. "Bon, what is it?" He knew it was useless to ask as Hisoka seemed to be choking on his inhales. At last, after several agonizing moments of deep, harsh breaths, Hisoka calmed down and finally managed to speak. Despite being clipped and muffled between spastic pants, the single name he spoke was plain and unmistakable to Watari's ears.

"Muraki."

-------------

Kyoto was his tower of fright. The place he went back to over and over in his dreams. His chronic nightmares. There had been a lot of those in the first couple of weeks after his rescue. Almost every night he found himself trapped in Muraki's metallic-gray lab, strapped to the cold operating table while colder steel cut through his flesh. Firm, possessive hands wandering all over his naked body. Touching places he didn't know anyone would be willing– or able - to touch. Doing things that made his heart sink one moment and beat faster the other. A warm body touching his chilled skin, insistent weight settling on top of him, surrounding him, confining his body in a steel embrace that threatened to choke. And through it all, he could hear Muraki's echoing laughter, feeling shame, revulsion and the unwavering, insistent pain. 

There had been panic. A leap to get away, brought down short by the numbness of his body, its refusal to respond to what his brain was screaming at him. Only his eyes would move, but they too were glued to the face of his tormentor. To the ever-present smirk on those fine, white lips and the piercing gleam in the mismatched eyes as pain cut through him again and again with surgical accuracy. The smirk widening, the eyes dancing and the hands returning to touch his body, soothing the white-hot burn and replacing it with the bitter coldness of revulsion.

For months he had dreamed about it. Still did on occasions even if he didn't tell anyone. In all those nights his only consolation had been the relief of waking up and knowing that it had only been a nightmare. Safe in the knowledge of it being over and that only in a few hours, daylight would come and he would be going to work. To JuOhCho where Hisoka was who would yell at him, Tatsumi who would scold him, Watari who would try one of his potions on him and all those others who would believe him when he said he was happy and all right and had no care in the world other than more money for a dessert. 

It had been all right. They were just dreams, they weren't true, and getting out of them was as easy as waking up.

_This _was NOT.

Tsuzuki tried to stay calm and focus his eyes so he could see – even through a fraction of luck – that his presumptions were not true and that this wasn't whom he thought it was even with the scent and the feel of the man seeping into him like tendrils of poisonous smoke.

"My, my my. Would you look at this? Someone left my Tsuzuki bound and beaten outside. Aren't they scared wolves would come and take him?" a downy voice sang.

There was no way he could delude himself anymore. With difficulty, Tsuzuki forced his eyes to see the figure standing in front of him and finally made out the features he knew so well. Nothing in the terrifyingly impeccable doctor had changed. He was just as he remembered him from Kyoto so many lifetimes ago. Perfect outfit, looking like it was just taken off the rack and worn for the first time. Perfect hair, shining like strands of platinum falling gracefully over one eye where moonlight bounced off of it. Pale, porcelain skin, competing in whiteness with the pristine clothes. Even the red bead was there, attached to one earlobe like a drop of crimson blood, leftover from past victims – past tortures, perhaps his own – with a hint of it reflecting in the eyes. 

Amethyst met silver.

"Muraki!" 

The name was a curse on his lips.

For a few seconds the doctor didn't show any reaction. With a hand under the shinigami's chin holding it up, face lifted to the silvery gaze, he stared into the clear purple eyes as if feeding off of the loathing and the fear displayed there, and the naked disbelief widening the pupils until the irises were nothing more than a thin, purple strip around the black. 

Then he smiled.

If Tsuzuki were to make a list of all the things that scared him the most in the world, Muraki's smile would most definitely be on that list, along with Muraki's voice, Muraki's touch, Muraki's evil laughter, and his hidden, artificial eye. There were other things about Muraki - other things done to him by Muraki - that would make that list. But those were pushed so deep to the back of his mind that he most likely wouldn't remember them.

"You are still so very beautiful, Tsuzuki-san. Still my beautiful doll of perfection."

Gods, Muraki's lecherous flirting would be the top of the list.

He closed his eyes as he saw Muraki kneel in front of him, bringing his face closer to his own. He didn't bother turning his head away. Past experiences had proven how ineffective that was. The doctor would simply use the opening to go for his neck. It didn't make a difference anyway. There was nowhere he could escape this time, no wall to back up to. So he let it happen, feeling the touch of ivory lips on his face and the caress of hot, panting breath against his cold flesh.

It made him shiver even more, felt something inside him curl around itself and whimper in helpless desperation. 

Muraki licked and nipped at his face for another while before pulling back and staring at him. Still holding his chin in a tight grip he commanded, "Open your eyes."

A moan finally escaped the bound shinigami's lips. Barely able to suppress the tremors that went through his body he shook his head in denial, like a child believing the scary thing would go away if he refused to look at it.

His lips were claimed in a brutal kiss before the surprised gasp could make it past them. Any other sound was drowned in the other's greedy plunder of his mouth. Muraki tasted of spice, of stinging mint leaves that burned your lips if you chewed on them for too long. Tsuzuki remembered that from the first time they had touched him. Muraki's lips always burned his skin. 

After Muraki broke the kiss he turned his eyes to Tsuzuki once again. "Now, open your eyes." He said in his baritone, commanding voice.

Thick, dark lashes slowly lifted to reveal twin purple orbs full of fear. Still – despite the expression – Muraki's breath hitched at seeing Tsuzuki's face so close. "Perfect," he whispered, reaching over to brush the strands of dark hair out of the shinigami's face. "That's the only word that could describe you, Tsuzuki-san. Just perfect." 

"What do you want, Muraki?" 

Tsuzuki's voice was rough and shaky, but it was there nonetheless. He had finally managed to regain some control over his senses and talk to the doctor before breaking into a thousand pieces. 

The white-clad man looked both surprised and delighted by his outburst. He seemed to have gotten tired of the one sided conversation and the deer-in-the-headlight looks. "You mean you don't know?" he asked, a smirk on his lips.

Tsuzuki lowered his head as the trembles continued to shake his body. He had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering before he spoke again.

"I know you want me. Want to break me, hurt me, ravish me…pile corpses at my feet. That's not what I meant. I'm asking what you're doing here in Meifu. How did you get here?"

"Is that important?" Muraki asked, playing with the chocolate colored locks, stroking them lovingly, curling a few strands around his finger. "It's not the first time I'm here, is it, Tsuzuki-san? I came the same way I did last time. Do you remember? When I held you in my arms like a helpless child, took you from the darkness you were trapped in into the light. To end your pain."

"You took me to hell." Tsuzuki choked out.

"Is that so? Was that how you saw it? I never knew I scared you so much when indeed all I wanted to do was to free you from this awful existence that you hated so much." His hand stroked the side of Tsuzuki's face. 

Tsuzuki slowly raised his head, tears streaming down his face and wetting pale cheeks. "Free me? You strapped me to your damned operating table, raped me, cut me with those terrible knives over and over again. You hurt me so bad I wished for death. You call that freedom?"

Muraki reached forward and cradled Tsuzuki's head in his arms, pressing it to his chest. He said, "Don't cry Tsuzuki-san, please. I might have hurt you. But it was necessary. You must know the only way to fix a broken doll is to take it apart and reassemble it again the right way. I needed to do that before I could make you all right, to make you mine."

Tsuzuki didn't reply. He was too far gone, too tired, cold and in pain. He couldn't fight Muraki, couldn't keep his shields up anymore. He was aware of his head resting against the doctor's chest, of Muraki's hand threading through his hair. He knew that he was burrowing himself deeper into that broad chest while tears spilled from his closed eyes. His conscience told him to fight, to pull away and put some distance between himself and the man who had raped and tortured both him and Hisoka. But conscience was a small voice in a place like this when fear and pain ruled the world and endurance reached its breaking point. When all you wanted was to close yourself off against the outside and nestle into a big, warm hug, never minding whom the arms that provided it belonged to. 

In the totality of his misery, Tsuzuki's fragile hold over his emotions finally snapped and he let go of the sobs that had been welling up in his throat since Muraki had appeared.

The doctor held him while he cried.

"Shh, Tsuzuki-san. It's all right. I'm here now." He whispered.

The hand that was stroking his hair gradually moved to his back, roaming and massaging tense muscles while pressing over the wires. Tsuzuki was powerless against the manipulation, gone as he was in his despair. He reacted however when he felt the doctor change position and shift to his back, chest to shoulder blades, almost draping himself over the shinigami's trembling body.

"Ugh…" Tsuzuki breathed. A protest that couldn't come out quite fully. His thorny restraints were being jolted by Muraki's movement and it didn't help that the doctor was putting a significant amount of his weight on the shinigami's back.

Just like Muraki, he thought. Just as Tsuzuki always remembered him. Promising him comfort one moment and adding to his pain instead. What else would you expect from a man whose job was to cure people, yet all he did was to torment and end their lives?

'If only he would let me suffer in peace…' Tsuzuki thought as he felt Muraki's arms circle his torso, holding him in place and taking the pressure off of his restraints.

"Sorry love," the mad doctor whispered against his ear, "Didn't intend to hurt you. It is just that you look so delicious here, all trussed up like this. Would you deny me a taste?"

It had been inevitable. Tsuzuki let his head drop and closed his eyes, tears falling like dew from under his lashes. What could he do? His prosecutors had sent him his worst terror and he was helpless to avoid it. How had they known? Who had told them? Or did Ayaka pick it up from his dream, just like she had done with his memories? What did they want him to do to spare him from this most terrifying of nightmares?

/ Nightmares are illusions. They can touch you and surround you, hurt you in ways you couldn't imagine./

Muraki's hands were moving over his chest now, occasionally dipping under his shirt to touch bare skin or tweak a nipple. His mouth was busy all on its own, searching and nibbling along his jaw, the side of his face, and the back of his neck. Tsuzuki could feel the hot breath against his skin and the trail of wetness those lips left behind. He felt the lips reach around and capture his own, sucking the tender swells of flesh into his mouth as Muraki's tongue slipped into his.

Everything came back to him in a rush of sudden recollection. That night in Muraki's bed, before he had dressed him in the white yukata and taken him to the lab. His body naked and shivering under Muraki's weight, powerless to do anything to avoid the unwanted touch. Muraki had kissed him the same way, from behind, while he was on his stomach and the doctor's hands wound around his torso. He remembered the utter desperation he had felt, alone and trapped, unable to move a limb or speak a word. The only thing he had been able to show were his tears, which the pillows underneath him had been soaked with. 

/ Nightmares can show you your most horrible dreams, your most painful memories or most desired wishes./

Muraki's hands had wandered lower, toward his abdomen. He was so distracted by the kisses that he hadn't noticed how they were now playing with the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper and reaching inside.

"No!" 

His voice was weak and sounded broken to his ears. But it was all he had and all he could do in an attempt to stop this.

"Shh…" Muraki whispered, smothering his struggles with powerful arms, "It won't hurt. I promise."

Tears kept running down Tsuzuki's face as he saw himself, once again, a victim in Muraki's arms. It was as if he was experiencing one of his nightmares for real. 

/ But illusions know nothing about feelings, they don't cry, and they don't bleed./

Muraki had managed to undo the shinigami's pants and was now pulling them down over his hips. The coldness of the air chilled him to the bone. Why? Why? He kept asking in his mind. Why wouldn't Muraki let him be? 

"You are so exquisite Tsuzuki-san, so precious. The best among all I've laid my eyes on. I never forgot that night when I finally got my first taste of you in Kyoto. And since then, my thirst has only become stronger. I want you, Tsuzuki-san. I want you to be mine."

Slowly the doctor ran his hand over the bulge in front of Tsuzuki's briefs and purred seductively. Tsuzuki sobbed, trying to get away from the offending hands but having nowhere to go. He raised his head, hoping to be able to head-butt Muraki in the face. The doctor easily avoided him. Tsuzuki could picture the smile on the other man's face as he continued to whisper endearments into his ear. 

"Still so full of spirit, aren't we? You are a dangerous creature, Tsuzuki-san. Dangerous and beautiful. Like a rose with thorns." Muraki's voice became muzzy as he leaned over Tsuzuki's throat and deeply inhaled, " I tried so hard to forget you, to suppress my lust for you after seeing how dangerous you could be in Kyoto. I had been abstaining – from you, from thinking of you, dreaming of your supple flesh, your beautiful hair – but look what destiny has turned out. All my efforts has come to naught when all of a sudden, I find myself on Meifu's ground with you bound and present like an offering to the gods. Do you sincerely blame me for being unable to resist?"

Muraki's hands where on his hips now and moving lower, with an experienced sweep they removed Tsuzuki's briefs down and left his body exposed to the wind. Tsuzuki's sob sounded more like a cry this time and he renewed his struggles. Muraki chuckled, his hand taking a strong grip on Tsuzuki's sex and squeezing, hard, effectively stopping the shinigami's efforts and freezing him in place.

A nightmare. That was what it was. Tsuzuki kept repeating to himself as he cried silently. It was all a terrible nightmare he would wake from soon…

/ Illusions know nothing about feelings.../

What did Ayaka mean? Why did she come to warn him about Muraki in the first place? 

/… they don't cry, and they don't bleed./

He felt the first symptoms of his body's reaction to Muraki's ministration and tried not thinking about it, about what was happening to his body. He remembered the last time, how he had survived through the agony by thinking about other things, happier things.

Feelings.

If it was truly an illusion, perhaps that was the answer. Bringing feelings – other than pain, shame and hatred – back to his numbed senses. Maybe of things that he enjoyed, and would appreciate again if given now. Like apple pie and cinnamon bun.

And how did he feel about those delicious things right now? Tsuzuki squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to recreate the image of the buns and the pie in his mind. His mouth started watering.

Muraki's weight sank on his back. He tried to ignore it. But then he realized the doctor had removed part of his own clothing and that the front of his pants were open now, pressing his erection onto his back. He panicked, his focus drifting back to the here and now for a moment before Ayaka's image appeared in his mind and he was reminded of her words. He fought to go back to his meditation, turning the image around to regain his sweet fantasy of deserts. Her dress became a cake, her hair sugar, the half moons on the back of her head turned into croissants and her eyes turned into candy. Now she was a baked cookie, and he wanted to take a bite of her.

He bit into Muraki's fingers that had just snaked into his mouth. The body above him winced and the hand pulled back. But he had the presence of mind to notice that there was no coppery taste on his lips. The hand – even though his teeth had sunk deep into its flesh – had not bled at all.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking of blood. So he thought of something else. Of flowers this time, and the joys of gardening. Oh what happiness his little back-garden in Meifu brought him when all the tiny flowers bloomed in the spring. They were so beautiful. And those that didn't bloom he would nurture and cherish until they did. And then people who came to his home would look at his garden and admire it.

It was faint but he felt it nonetheless. The hand holding his waist faltered for a fraction of a second before tightening its grip more urgently. Muraki was quiet now, no more taunts and jibes coming from him, as if he was intent on what he was doing and perhaps even a little worried about giving something away. It was useless nonetheless because Tsuzuki had felt it.

So he kept up his own illusion, the one he had built on top of the existing one and came up with new images, of working in the office with Hisoka and Tatsumi, of bumping into Watari on his way to the lab, of Saya and Yuma and their giggles when they were around, of company picnics and tea parties at the Earl's palace. 

But now, instead of just seeing the images, he began to feel them. Remembering Tatsumi's stern but melodic voice, Hisoka's soft cheeks and hands, Watari's variety of chemical smells, the taste of Wakaba's chocolate cake in his mouth…. It was as if he was reaching into a hidden reservoir of emotions and pulling out whatever met his hand. He piled them on top of each other like a Jenga tower, adding more and more to it as he surfed the thoughts: hunger, thirst, joy, anger, sleep, excitement, boredom, thrill, pleasure, achievement, shame, mischief, love…

That last one did the trick. For a split second he felt the hands go away. Not move away but simply dissolve. It didn't matter that they came back an instant later with a newly acquired vengeance, that they gripped him in all the most painful ways and started squeezing and hurting. He had found his way out. He just had to work on it.

Love. That was the one key emotion he needed for this. To chase away the fear and the pain. And now that he thought about it, it made even more sense in his mind. How could he have missed it? It was an illusion all right. But he had failed to notice that Ayaka herself wasn't there to feed it. In reality, she was the one who had conjured it, but not the one who held it together or kept it going. That was all him. His emotions of fear and revulsion and his memories of that night were the ones keeping Muraki around. It was an easy mathematical equation. The more real the illusion became, the more frightened _he_ became, feeding the illusion with his fear and repeating the cycle. 

It was so easy now, so simple when he saw it for what it was. All he had to do was to break the cycle.

He took a deep breath and with a rush of renewed determination brought up all the memories, all the feelings he had stashed away in the core of his heart and surrounded himself with them. Like a mental shield they covered him, protecting him from the devil and his touch.

He heard Muraki's angry gasp and his wavering effort to hold on. The doctors mouth came to growl in his ear, "What do you think you are doing? Do you seriously think you can escape me with such pathetic attempts?"

For the first time since their encounter Tsuzuki smiled. He didn't even need to look at his tormentor to know he was fading. "No," he said, " Maybe I can't escape the real you. But you are not the real Muraki. Just a copycat of how I remember him. And I don't want to remember him anymore, so you have to go."

From the corner of his eye he saw Muraki's apparition open his mouth, but no sound came out. He took the opening and went for him with another rush of feelings, bringing everything he got to the surface. His constant joy, his gentleness and care for everyone, his guilt over his past. He remembered his friends. He remembered how much he loved Hisoka, how much he respected and cared for Tatsumi, how much he enjoyed being with Watari and Wakaba and hell…even Terazuma. He brought those forth full force, images of their archery tournament, of the sense of pride he had felt when he'd shot the winning arrow. And how happy he was to see Hisoka and the chief looking at him with approval in their eyes. And the great time the he and Hisoka had shared after Tatsumi told him he had no paid vacation and Hisoka scolded him yet stayed in Meifu nonetheless to keep him company. They'd had a fun time playing games and cooking for each other, and that one night when Hisoka had come to sleep in his bed because of a nightmare and he had held him and listened to his soft breathing as he clamed down and slept …

"STOP THIS!" he heard Muraki's image say.

It was meant to be a yell, but even the voice was fading and sounding more like a cry. He knew then that he had won. He opened his eyes to see the thin film that was left of Muraki's specter disappear with the wind, like ashes scattering in the air. And, at the same time, he could feel himself becoming whole again, his clothes all in place, his hair and his body untouched. It was as if nothing had happened, and come to think of it, it really never had. For the first time in days Tsuzuki felt a sense of victory. No matter how small and insignificant it was, he had beaten the demons at their own game and came out the winner. That was something to go bragging about. All of a sudden he knew he could get through this. He had come face to face with all their devious tricks, the worst they could dish out to him, and had survived unscathed. It meant he could last this trial if he continued to hold on, and the key to it was as simple as his love for his friends and something he was already best at.

Feelings.

--------------------------

The castle hadn't changed. Same earth-colored walls, same summer-green roof, same reflective windows. His view of it, however, had changed. Warped in some way. He knew it was most likely the exhaustion, from staring at it – and at nothing else - for such a long time. The windows seemed longer, the walls skewed, and the roof caved-in. It was just an illusion, Tatsumi told himself as he fought, for the um-teenth time that day to keep his eyes open.

He thought it was another trick of his mind when he saw the darkly clad figure appear on the perimeter of his vision. As such, he paid it no attention. But when the figure moved forward it caused him to turn and look. Tatsumi worked to focus his eyes. It was one of those phantom guards that had come with Isorou. The cloaked and hooded minions that he called Enma's aids but were at the prosecutor's beck and call at all time like trained puppies. What was it doing here?

The creature stood a few feet away from him, facing him without speaking. Tatsumi stared at it for a while before feeling bored and deciding to dismiss it by shifting his eyes back to the castle. He didn't have any business minding it, he told himself. If it had something to do here, it better get on with it and leave. And if it was there simply to annoy the living daylight out of him, like Tatsumi himself was doing to the occupants of the castle, then it was simply pathetic for trying to pull the same trick he was using on him.

That was of course before he saw the other two, standing a short distance away from the first one. And he noticed the way they stood formed a barricade, effectively preventing him from moving ahead while his retreat was blocked by the gargoyle statue. It looked like they were trying to trap him. It made him smile at their naiveté to believe such a thing was possible.

He was contemplating these thoughts when the creature standing closest to him started to speak in a baritone voice that didn't quite go with its somewhat flimsy appearance. 

"Tatsumi Seiichiro, we are here to remove you from this location." 

"I see. And this was ordered by whom?" Tatsumi said.

"EnmaDiao."

"Then please go and tell his Greatness that, sadly, I cannot comply with his wish."

"Your view on the matter is impertinent and not of Enma-sama's interest."

"Then his isn't of mine either."

That seemed to go a little far as it evoked a flinch from the shrouded beings. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tatsumi realized that his statement had probably been a borderline insult to Lord Enma, but it was just a tiny part of his conscience while the rest of him was simply too numb to care.

The front figure seemed to recover from the shock first, or maybe it was the only one allowed to speak since it addressed Tatsumi again.

"I suggest you come with us without any trouble, Tatsumi Seiichiro-san. You wouldn't want to add more to your list of transgressions." 

"My list of--? Are you saying you are arresting me?"

"We are only following EnmaDiao's orders. If you have any objections, you should wait until you meet him and bring your dispute to His Greatness himself. For now, the order is to escort you away from the Castle of Candles and that is what we are going to do."

Tatsumi's eyes were shards of blue glass as he stood more solidly on the ground to show that no matter the threat, he was not going to move willingly from that spot.

Apparently the creature understood the implication since, a moment later, and with a slight movement of its hand, it beckoned to its followers to moved closer to Tatsumi forming a circle around him.

A thin dark line pulled taught in front of them preventing their approach like a wire on a fence. Tatsumi eyed them warningly, holding onto the sliver of shadow he had pulled from the branches of a nearby tree. It was neither a threat nor a challenge, just an act of self-defense. But his eyes showed he wasn't afraid to unleash offence if they didn't stop forcing the issue. 

The two subordinate creatures heeded the warning and stopped a few feet away from the shadow. They looked at their leader for instruction while Tatsumi slowly dissolved his magic. The speaker was quiet; unseen eyes fixed on the secretary from under its hood. It looked like it wasn't pleased with what had just happened.

"If you don't come with us peacefully we will be obligated to use force," it said.

"Won't do you any good but you are welcome to try." Tatsumi replied as he pulled another shadow from somewhere and suspended it over the group's head.

It happened too fast. Like old-fashioned Western movies when everything is calm and frozen between two opponents one second for all hell to break loose in the next. The trio moved at once, closing in on him with fluid speed. It was enough for him to release the shadow upon them. It crashed down like a deluge of tar, gluing them in place. Tatsumi looked on in satisfaction. He doubted they knew that a master Kagetsukai could change the shadow's texture as well as its shape.  

But as it appeared, his powers weren't the only ones underestimated. Still covered with the blotch of shadow, the leader of the group shimmered faintly and spoke a tiny spell. It was all it took for Tatsumi's magic to disappear, and because he hadn't expected it to happen so fast he was caught off guard when all three of them jumped him an eye blink later and started casting their own spells on him. Tatsumi returned to battle mode soon after, pulling shadows from everywhere and using them as weapons to strike them down. It helped to knock two of them off their feet and away from him. But the third had had ample time to finish its spell and by the time Tatsumi turned to it, it was already too late. He found his magic lost and the shadows retreating. Next he became paralyzed, unable to move a limb. And before long all members of the trio were back on their feet and surrounding him. He looked at them with livid eyes, determined not to give in even though the odds were drastically against him. 

He saw the leader reach for him and grab him by the lapel of his coat. He forced his body to stay strong and in place. It didn't matter that he was paralyzed. Exhaustion and lack of food had done that too him days ago, long before these pitiable servants had showed up. All that mattered was to remain where he was, where he could be seen by the Earl. His plan however didn't quite work when the creature gave a tug and he found himself falling. He saw the ground moving fast toward his face without being able to move his arms and break the fall. He was fully expecting to feel the impact on his face when the other two creatures caught him by the arms mid fall and began dragging him to an unknown destination following their leader. He opened his mouth to shout. He would die first before he'd let them take him away. 

The voice that was heard next wasn't his though.

"Leave him alone. Hakushaku-sama wants to see him."

They all turned at the sound. The sight that greeted them was almost comical in its contrast to the authoritative voice they'd just heard. Facing them stood Watson, the Earls disfigured butler. Tatsumi always thought of him as negligible. But Watson was standing tall and serious now. And the creatures seemed to be wary of him.

"Did the Earl himself ask for him?" One of them asked.

Watson nodded. "I wouldn't have been here if he hadn't, would I?"

Tatsumi's mind was whirling. He was too tired and confused to believe what he was seeing. But it seemed to mean that his wish was granted. The phantoms let go of his arms.

For the second time that day, Tatsumi expected to fall flat on his face only to be saved from it by a surprising force. This time it was his own as feeling returned to his body in a snap and his reflexes kicked in. He caught himself with his arms and landed on hands and knees in front of the butler. It was an awkward and embarrassing position in front of four creatures that were all more or less half his size. But since they all kept their professional air he took his time to catch his breath before slowly standing up and looking at them, who for the most part completely ignored him.

"Our orders are from EnmaDiao…" 

"EnmaDiao has agreed. The Earl will handle it from here."

It infuriated him, the way they talked as if he wasn't there. But he was smart enough not to react to it and when his hostile escorts finally gave an approving nod and left, he found himself extremely grateful of the tiny hunchbacked servant.

The butler raised his head after watching the figures depart and said, "Please follow me," in the same commanding voice he had used the entire time. He then turned toward the castle and started walking.

"Has the Earl finally agreed to hear me out?" Tatsumi asked without moving.

Watson didn't turn. "He has agreed to see you." He stopped and looked at him over his shoulder, "You better not keep him waiting," was all he said before starting to walk again.

There was no point in arguing anymore, so as quickly as his shaky legs would allow him, Tatsumi followed the creature into the castle. It was time to get some answers from the higher ups, as well as making some serious demands. After that, maybe he'd be able to put an end to all this madness, have some much-needed rest, and find the courage to look Tsuzuki in the eyes once again.

tbc

----------------

So what do you think? Sorry, no Isorou in this one, I know you all miss him ;) I'm starting to wrap things up from here on and explain the behind-the-scenes stuff. This will continue on to the next chapter, which will be the one before the big finale (oh, yes, there is one. And rest assured, Isorou will be there.) 

Now that you've come this far, I would really appreciate it if you left me a **review. **Especially since it's getting harder and harder to keep up with the updates. If I know enough people are reading this, I'll be more inclined to continue it. Doesn't that sound good?

Oh, and here is a question in case you'd like to tackle one: What do you think the Earl would say to Tatsumi? 


	12. Phase 6: The gathering storm

I'm so so sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. I had told myself never to do what some of my favorite authors did to me: leaving their readers in the middle of a story without updating it for a long time. But the past few months had been a roller coaster for me. I had so much work to do, school projects and household chores and my boyfriend and you name it. On top of that I started seriously playing FF7 and that took another chunk of my time and…well, you know the rest.

It was because of the reviews that I returned. To all of my faithful reviewers – especially those few who reviewed the story way after I had abandoned it – I say thank you. You are the reason why this story keeps going on, and why I again took interest in it. Please keep doing what you do so well and I promise you not to slack off ever again ;)

**And now, here is a summary of what happened so far:**

"Tsuzuki is still in the clutches of Isorou. Meanwhile Hisoka and Watari discover that Ayaka has a double personality and that's why she is sometimes nice and sometimes evil. Her evil personality is a Makai demon named Nourian who has the power to make people see things that don't really exist. Tatsumi faces off against the phantom servants of Isorou and just as they are about to take him away from where he had been lobbying in front of the Castle of Candles Watson, the Earl's disfigured butler, shows up and tells him that the Earl has granted him entrance to the castle and is ready to see him."

This chapter is most likely one of my least favorite chapters of the entire story, possibly because it has everyone in it except for Tsuzuki (maybe that's why it took me so long to write it shrug) But the events of this chapter are essential for the resolution of the story and for understanding the plot since most of it is revealed here. I hope you like it and stay with me later for the stunning conclusion of The Trial :)

The Trial--Chapter Eleven

The woman in white hesitantly made her way into the room where all the lights were turned on, even the lampshade on the tiny corner table. It didn't surprise her, knowing who the occupant was. She walked far enough to see the man sitting at a table in the middle of the room, deeply into reading a document. The man didn't make any moves to acknowledge her presence. She stopped and saw him absently reach for the lamp on the table - the only one that wasn't on - and click it. Still nothing strange. She'd known him for enough time to be witness to almost all of his natural and unnatural habits. Better than anyone, she knew how the man hated darkness; he fought it with all he had from lamps to daylight. She knew all of it. About him, about darkness, about the fear that resided inside the heart that seemed to have been calcified a long time ago.

"Hng…" she started but her voice caught in her throat.

"Speak your mind, Ayaka. I'm sure you can see I'm busy right now so make it quick." Isorou didn't take his eyes off the page he was reading.

Ayaka took a deep breath to steady her nerves and then said, "Isorou-san. Ano…I was thinking…uh…"

"You were thinking what?" Isorou turned to her, impatient and annoyed and all of it showing on his face.

Ayaka got even more nervous and looked down, biting her lip. Now she was fumbling with the sash of her robe. "I was thinking that maybe – maybe it's enough. I mean, with that shinigami--" she looked up, "Don't you think it is enough?"

Isorou didn't respond, just kept looking at her. Ayaka's lips quivered before the silence and the intensity of his gaze made her go into a rant. "I mean, it's been more than a week. He's held out so long. He passed all the tests and didn't break not once. None of the other trials had run this long, you know. I guess what I'm saying is that…that maybe he has a pure heart, and a kind soul, more suitable to be the next in line of Enma instead of Lord Mahorath --"

"What the hell are you talking about, Ayaka?" Isorou cut her off.

Ayaka stopped, as if the words themselves had died in her throat. With a sharp inhale bordering on a gasp she closed her mouth and withdrew onto herself. The burst of confidence she had gotten through Isorou's slight show of attention evaporated like smoke in wind causing her to once again drop her head and play nervously with her sash.

"When did you come up with those ingenious conclusions?" Isorou barked at her, "Since when do you meddle in Makai's business, Ayaka? You think you have a say in this? Didn't I tell you this matter did not concern you?"

The white clad woman winced at Isorou's tone, rising higher in volume as he went on. However, she still lifted her head and looked at him after his yelling fit.

"B-but… I've seen him. He is so innocent and kind and…"

"DAMN IT!" Isorou shouted. "Don't you listen to anything I say? It doesn't matter what you think. You are invisible, intangible, an insignificant fly I would have smashed long ago if it weren't for 'her'. Now look at you dare giving me your opinion." He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it forward to stare right into her eyes, "Get it, woman. You don't have the right to one."

She whimpered but didn't say anything. All the fight was drained out of her and a lump was rising in her throat at witnessing her weakness. She didn't want to be weak; she didn't want to be afraid of this man. But she was only half a person and the power the other half held over her was too great to allow her a decent fight.

As if reading her thoughts Isorou's face took on a slightly gleeful, fully malicious expression. His eyes raked over her face, drinking in the desolation and fear there, deciding on the next attack in order to cause maximum pain.

"I see. You have been around for too long, haven't you? It's time you to take a little rest., my angel. Let your sister play for a while."

Ayaka's eyes widened, taking an even more desperate hue. Still staring the gray haired man in the eyes she started begging. "Please, Masaki-san, not yet. I need to--my sanity -- please Masaki-san. Not yet."

But as if the words themselves shriveled and dissolved around the cruel, coldhearted presence, her pleading produced no effect in the gray eyes that continued to stare intently at their captive. Ayaka's voice died, her body frozen in the grip until all life appeared to extinguish from it, to be replaced by another. Slowly, the purple brown color of the eyes changed into a fiery red. The lips that were still quivering in the aftermath of her pleading stilled, and then their corners slowly turned upward. A breath, almost like a sigh, exhilarating for sure, escaped from between them. And the face which had gone slack a second ago came alive, contorting into an off colored smirk that made the woman look trashy for the lack of a better word.

"You can let go now, Masaki." She whispered in a voice much different from the one heard from her before: raspy, shrill, confident with an edge of challenge.

Isorou did let her go then.

"Hi, Nourian." He said flatly.

She wiped her hands on her dress and tidied her hair in annoyance. "You could go a little easier next time. I'm still using this body, you know." She then turned and gave him a grin, mocking a cute pose. "Thought you'd never call. What's up with you and being so scatty?"

"I told you, you shouldn't depend on me for gaining control. I'm only a means for necessity. If you can't hold on to a body in contest with someone as pathetic as her, maybe you should stay asleep more often."

The woman, "Nourian", pouted. "Maybe you should shut up and let me see what I'm doing barely two seconds into the world."

She fumbled with her hair a little more and then looked down at her body. Her hand moved down to grab a fistful of her dress. She shook the fabric in anger, "White again? She won't give up, will she?"

Isorou shrugged and went back to his reading. "If you want to get changed, please do so quickly and come back. We have a lot to talk about."

Nourian, who was leaving, looked over her shoulder and said, "A lot to talk about? You mean about that shinigami again? What is it this time? 'How to make the shinigami remember what a terrible cook he is and make everyone eat a sample of his food?' I mean, you are pretty much running out of ideas."

"Shut up and go change. I'm not here to listen to your jibes."

Nourian made a face and huffed before flinging her hair and walking out of the room.

--------------------------

Tatsumi walked the tall corridor that lead from the entrance of the Castle of Candles to the Earl's private quarters, his back painfully straight and his eyes on the back of the hunchbacked butler he followed. He felt elated that his weeklong picketing had finally paid off and was repeating the things he wanted to say to the Earl over and over in his head. Finally the butler stopped at a door and cracked it open softly, peaking inside. Receiving some kind of confirmation, the dwarf/zombie-like creature opened the door completely and gestured for Tatsumi to enter. The tall secretary passed the threshold into a room that looked like an office with wall shelves filled with books and a desk facing the door that had a mask and two folded, gloved hands hovering above it. He recognized them immediately and opened his mouth to speak, but then the room got very dim and started to tip at a strange angle. He wondered what was happening when all of a sudden he realized he was looking at the ceiling with a shriveled, disfigured face hovering above him. It seemed like he was lying on his back on the floor even though he couldn't remember how he had ended up there. He wanted to comment on the funny situation and apologize but his mind didn't want to work. His brain was fuzzy and darkness was closing in around him fast. Before he knew, it swallowed him up whole and he fell into the blissful state of unconsciousness.

--------------------------

Nourian was in her customary black gown when she came back to Isorou. She also had her hair tied with many strings and bows. "You know I might cut it real short some day." She said as she fumbled with one of the threads, "it's worth just to piss her off." Her face was shining like a naughty kid as she straightened up in front of the man. "What do you say, Masaki-san?"

Just like before, Isorou chose to completely ignore her, looking over the stuff he was reading. She pouted but didn't say anything. Instead she stretched forward to take a peek at what he was reading. Isorou finally looked up, glaring at her, which made her jump back and frown likewise. "What's with the attitude? You're pissed at Ayaka, you don't take it out on me."

Isorou gritted his teeth. He looked away shaking his head. "You're such a thickhead. Too bad I need you or else I would have dropped you somewhere no one would find and be harassed by your stupidity."

"Oi, watch it." He looked back and saw fire in the dark angel's eyes. She had also obtained a glow around her and her hair was starting to rise and float in the air. An instinctive reaction to her anger, Nourian was on the verge of entering full demon mode. Isorou closed his eyes, frustrated, and whispered. "Yes, damn it all to hell, but I still need you."

As soon as it started, the anger in the burgundy eyes died down. Nourian's hair fell all around her once again and her face got her mischievous grin back. "But I can't really be mad at you, Masaki-san. You're such a sweetheart." She clucked, half mocking.

"Just be quiet." Isorou growled.

"I said watch it, grumps. Now tell me what's the plan."

---------------------------

Tatsumi awakened to the aroma of fresh tea. He was lying on a couch in a large, richly decorated room, one of Earl's many guestrooms he assumed. Holding a hand to his forehead he sat up and stared. There was a wall to his right, decked with the castle's typical purple wallpaper. To his left he saw the expanse of the room and the round, mahogany table where the tea was being served. There was only one person sitting at the table if you could even say that, since a mask and two gloves being counted as a full person entirely depended on the observer's personal judgment.

The mask was drinking tea.

Tatsumi watched the Earl's calm veneer carefully. The anger he had felt so many lifetimes ago when he had first come to this place and was denied entrance flooded back to him like a tsunami. How could the man be so calm and drink tea knowing what was happening to Tsuzuki? How could he not care after having chased and pestered the purple-eyed shinigami with his unwanted attention so many times? He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts but his parchment-dry throat only allowed him a cough.

His host looked up. It was hard to tell whether he had already been aware of his wakefulness and waiting for him to speak first or that the noise had brought it to his attention. Watson, who was also in the room, showed up at Tatsumi's side, offering him a glass of water.

"How long have I been lying here?" he rasped, taking small sips.

"Just a few hours. You needed the rest so we didn't wake you up. Now you need something to eat." The Earl replied.

The glass was taken from him and a plate of bite-size snacks was offered. As much as Tatsumi wanted to refuse he couldn't fight the painful protest of his stomach. He picked one up with as much repulsion his watering mouth allowed him to fake. He took a small bite and was lost in the rich taste of it. Soon he had dropped all pretence of pride and was devouring the whole plate rapidly, licking his fingers and acutely aware of how low he had sunken from his usual elegant stance and how the Earl was watching all of it with careful attention. 'Damn him to hell.' He thought, 'It's all his fault anyway.'

When it felt like he'd gotten some of his strength back Tatsumi started to rise, and action that soon proved to be a bad idea since the room swayed and spun around him, forcing him back to the couch.

"I suggest you stay put for a while. You've been standing out there for so long you've lost a lot of blood circulation to your brain. A human would faint and fall down in such conditions. It's true that you are a shinigami but you are still vulnerable to extreme exhaustion."

"What? You're saying I'm bedridden?"

"No, but you are the closest a shinigami can get to something like that. Those snacks you just ate will help you, but the magic in them requires time."

Tatsumi fell quiet. He just stared at the other creature, his tired expression and haunted pale face giving him the aura of a lost child. The age and standing of the room's other occupant made it the more prominent.

Silence stretched between them. There was no way to read the Earl's face as he sipped on his tea. He had no face to start with, but the calmness in the movement passing from glove to mask showed a mountain of patience. Their experience together in the past days had proven to Tatsumi that the Earl was nothing if not a patient man. Oh, he had learned that the hard way for sure. Now he was just tired, too tired to continue the waiting game.

So he spoke. "Why did you let me in?" That was a good question to begin with. Simple and to the point, if not the point he had initially intended.

"You were dying out there." The Earl's answer was as simple. He knew the game well.

"Why now? Why not sooner?" Tatsumi continued.

"I never thought it would be so long."

"You underestimated me." Tatsumi's voice was laced with an absurd but desperately needed pride.

"I guess I did." The Earl replied.

The mask had turned, looking in his direction.

"So what now?" Tatsumi whispered, going back to the lost child mode.

The Earl shook his head, "You're the one who came here to see me. Ask the question you've been waiting to ask for so long."

Tatsumi stared. He didn't know what to say. All of a sudden, he was lost for words. Too easy, too simple. Couldn't be true. And it had been so long since he had come here that target and purpose had left him, bent shape in his mind and entirely lost meaning.

He said the first thing that came to his mind: "Please save Tsuzuki."

The Earl answer was accompanied by a sigh. "Young man, do you seriously think I wouldn't have done that all this time had there been anything I could do?"

"But you are the lord of the Castle of the Candles-- the keeper of the kiseki--you must be able to do something. Of all the people in Meifu you are the most powerful and the closest to Lord Enma. Don't expect me to believe you are helpless." Tatsumi felt anger rising in him again.

The Earl stared ahead, his teacup resting in front of him. "Tatsumi Seiichiro san, there is a lot you need to hear about this case before you can even start to judge a person."

"What? So he killed a giant temple spirit. The thing was after injured children. What kind of court condemns a man who saves the lives of innocents?" Tatsumi retorted.

"The court of the dark lord Mahorath." Came the Earl's grim reply, turning the mask towards him for more emphasis.

If a pin were dropped in the seconds that followed that statement its sound most likely would have been heard by all occupants in the room. Tatsumi was frozen; staring at the invisible man with shock, the name he had just heard was like a blow that had numbed all of his senses.

When he finally came out of it, he swallowed and spoke in a shaky voice. "Don't- don't tell me this is about the old debate between Enma and…"

"How could you not suspect that from the beginning?"

"But that was decades ago. I thought Lord Mahorath had finally gotten over it and accepted that Tsuzuki belonged in Ju-Oh-Cho, that he was a part of the light side."

"You have to understand, Tatsumi san. Even though Tsuzuki Asato is one of Enma Diao's few celestial descendants, and the only one to possibly succeed him, we can't ignore that the blood in his veins is still that of a demon. He is a child of paradox, trapped in a place between the dark and the light and suffering for it. He can never truly belong to a side without sooner or later remembering the other. Lord Mahorath knows this and considers himself as much entitled to him and his supernatural powers as Enma dono."

"You talk of him like he's piece of meat tossed amidst a pack of drooling wolves." Tatsumi said contemptuously, "Does anyone think about his feelings in all of this?"

"They do, or rather they think about which side he will be more likely to stay loyal to. For the longest time Enma Diao had the upper hand, but recent events had proven that assumption to be flawed. And now Lord Mahorath wants to see if it isn't him and Makai's that Asato really desires."

"Tsuzuki would never turn to Makai. Even if it were the last thing in the world and they promised him eternal happiness and then some. I know him too well to know that his gentle heart would not allow him such a job."

To his surprise the Earl nodded, "In that my child, I must admit you are correct. The offer was made and he refused. But they are counting on him to change his mind, after a certain amount of persuasion. Mahorath is hoping it won't be too long before he agrees."

"Persuasion?" Tatsumi whispered, suddenly getting the clear picture, "Is that what they call their torture? Persuasion? How long is that monster going to go on with it before he realizes that Tsuzuki won't break? He'd rather give his own life than hurt any other being, dead or alive."

"I know. And now I think they do too."

Tatsumi's held his breath. "They? Are you saying Makai has given up its 'persuasion' and will let him go?"

The Earl didn't answer immediately, worrying Tatsumi that perhaps he had hoped too soon. Then he said, "Mahorath was beginning to think about it. After Tsuzuki was possessed by the demon Saagatanus and then later brought to the brink of insanity by Muraki he had assumed that it was the demon side of Tsuzuki that had made him vulnerable in those situations. He decided to tap into it with the trial. But the trial proved something entirely different. It wasn't Tsuzuki's dark side that pushed him to the extreme. It was his care for others - rooted in his lightness - that had caused those breakdowns. So the whole process proved to be futile and had to be terminated."

Tatsumi's eyes stayed on the mask. "Why am I sensing a 'but' here?" he asked carefully.

"Because someone made Mahorath change his mind."

"Someone…"

----------------------------

"Masaki-san, are you going to tell me your plan or should I charm it out of you?" Nourian cooed, batting her lashes in a comically exaggerated way.

Isorou grimaced. "You might be a lot of things, Nourian. But charming isn't one of them."

Nourian frowned, but it looked as fake as her attempt at wooing. After all, she was used to being treated that way by the man.

Isorou indulged her nonetheless, "I told Mahorath to give me one last try to break that shinigami for good. I am going to make him beg to join Makai or else I'll quit my job."

"What do you have in mind?"

Isorou's smile split his face like a joker's grin, ugly and hiding something evil.

"Have you learned his weakness?" he asked.

"Whose weakness? The shinigami?"

"No, those chicken librarians. Of course the shinigami, you moron."

Nourian took a contemplative pose. "Hmm, let me see. Sweets," she started ticking off her fingers, "slacking off, turning into puppies, that doctor he's so afraid of…"

"Gods," Isorou grunted, "Why would I even think you'd use your few brain cells just because you share Ayaka's body. She would have had guessed it by now." He turned away.

Nourian looked genuinely hurt. She grumbled, "So what is his real weakness, Mr, know-it-all?"

Isorou didn't answer but went back to his papers. He didn't argue when the blonde came up behind him to look over his shoulder at the document he was reading. A document consisting of two separate pages, holding details on two particular shinigamis.

"I have something in mind all right, and sadly your powers are crucial for its function. I don't count on you to understand the works of it but I expect you to follow my orders precisely. If it succeeds, Makai will triumph over EnmaCho and both sides will know I made it happen. It will be a remarkable achievement even if it is just for the sorry soul of that pathetic shinigami."

---------------------------

Hisoka stood in front of the KoKakuRo under the bright moonlight, taking in the guests that came and went, the lights, aroma and sounds coming from the inside and around. Under his right arm he held the katana he had tightly wrapped in thick cloth. He didn't know why he had taken the precaution to hide the weapon, it wasn't like anyone could see him if he didn't want to. Well, anyone except a certain doctor.

Butterflies started rising in his belly again. He hated being here, in this place that held so many painful memories. Remembering the first time he had come here, when he had lost Tsuzuki and was determined to get him back at any cost. Then he had stood up for him, against one of the finest swordsmen he had known in his short life, and gained what he'd wanted. Not won, that would never have been possible, not with the man's skill and his own lack of experience, not with that adept hand holding the sword, moving so fast all you could see was the flash of the blade. But he was "given" victory, and had accepted. And for back then, it had been enough.

Not for now. He had come back again, katana in hand, Tsuzuki in mind and far more anxious. Being the rescuer again, wanting – no, needing – to save his friend. Again. And for that he needed the skill that only one man wielded, the man who was behind those doors.

Now that he was here though the tingling in his stomach had increased. He didn't exactly know why. Oriya was only a mortal. Was it the memories? The fact that this place had been a sanctuary to Muraki? Was he still afraid to meet the doctor here? But that apprehension was unwarranted because he knew he would've sensed the madman if he was around, and he hadn't…yet. So what was he worried about?

Shaking off his doubts Hisoka moved toward the entrance at the back of the restaurant, the one he and his friends had used the last time they were here. He walked inside and faced the beautiful garden at the back of the structure. He saw the pond, crystal clear water shimmering in the light of the full moon. He looked at the spot where he and Oriya had fought, fantasized that he could still see bloodstains, splattered on the grass there. He remembered how he had stood to the end, despite his injuries, despite his evident disadvantage showing in every step they took in their dance. Only for Tsuzuki. He remembered wanting to save him so badly he could taste it as clearly as he could taste the blood on his lips.

Cautiously, he took a few steps into the courtyard, the sheathed katana trailing loosely behind him. His steps took him to the pond, where he stood silently gazing at the water.

"Never expected to see you again so soon."

He whirled at the voice and saw the man himself. Sitting on the porch lazily with his pipe in hand and no care in the world, Oriya Mibu looked quite different from the silent and stern warrior Hisoka had met the other night.

That is before you saw the black-sheathed Katana resting snugly against the post he was leaning his back on.

"And alone too." Oriya turned, putting one sandaled foot on the ground and looking straight at him so the boy could clearly see the smirk on his lips. "Are you here to take someone's life? Or offer yours?"

The last was obviously a taunt not a threat but the presence of the katana and the knowledge of how quickly the man could use it made Hisoka move to a ready stance. Slowly he took his own blade out of its wrapping.

"I want you to teach me some techniques."

Oriya's back was resting against the pillar again, blue smoke curling out of his pipe and nostrils and getting blown away by the wind.

"Where is Purple Eyes? I thought it wasn't customary for you guys to travel alone," he said as if the boy hadn't spoken at all.

Hisoka forced himself to stay calm. "I want you to teach me to fight like you." He said again.

Oriya took a deep draft of his pipe and released the smoke to the wind. "Why?" he asked." I thought you guys didn't need the mortal ways of battle. Have you decided to run Kazutaka through with a sword instead of a spell?"

"This isn't about Muraki." Hisoka gritted out.

"But it is about the brunette, isn't it?" The longhaired man turned his knowing eyes to him again.

"Tsuzuki…" Hisoka choked out, "Yes, he is in trouble."

"Sheesh! Why am I not surprised? Looks like loving that guy brings more trouble than running a secret brothels or killing humans for fun. Makes me wonder why so many people are into it."

"I don't care about your sarcasm. I just need you to teach me how to use my sword like you do so I can defeat the bastard who's hurting my friend."

Oriya immediately turned and sat straight, focusing his burning gaze on the boy.

"And what about my friend? Did any of you ever ask yourselves what Kazutaka went through after your 'friend' left him to burn in that building?"

Hisoka felt blood rush to his face. What was the man talking about? Did Oriya seriously expect him to feel sorry for Muraki of all people?

A moment later Oriya's laughter rang in his ear like the tinkle of glass breaking on tiles. Like a man who had just heard the best joke in days Oriya let out a chuckle that was as loud as his outburst earlier.

"Oh, gods. You are so uptight. You really thought I expect you to worry about your worst enemy, ne? Heck, even I don't worry about him. Kazutaka is a thick-skinned guy. He will pull through without needing you or me or anyone else to clean his diapers."

His smirk turned back to Hisoka. "Your sweet puppy friend on the other hand – "

"You don't know anything about him so please keep your insults to yourself." Hisoka snapped.

Oriya looked at him carefully. "You seem awfully testy tonight, young one. Is everything all right? Your partner is not in life danger, is he?"

For a split moment Hisoka found himself not wanting to be strong anymore. He wanted to throw the sword to the ground, run toward the other man and sink into his embrace. He wanted to hide his face in his long, silken kimono and let his tears rain down until the other lulled him to peace like the older brother he'd never had.

Instead he stood there dumbfounded, sword loosely held in hand. "Tsuzuki is dying," he said numbly, "And I can't help him unless I defeat the man who is the cause of his pain."

"Sit down, boy." Oriya pointed at a spot next to him on the porch. "Tell me about this man and what's happened to you partner."

At first Hisoka wanted to object, say he didn't have time and that he needed those lessons fast. But looking at the calm countenance of the man sitting in front of him he realized he wanted to talk, if only to unwind and have someone listen to his grief for a while. Besides, if he wanted something from Oriya it was better to give him something in return. With that in mind he sat himself a few inches away from the smoking man and began his tale.

-----------------------------

"So Lord Mahorath is still counting on his delegates to win him Tsuzuki?"

Tatsumi had moved from the couch and was now sitting at the table across from the Earl. Watson had served them both tea and Tatsumi was sipping the hot, soothing drink.

"No matter what the outcome of the trial, the fact remains that Mahorath wants Tsuzuki. He believes him a prince of Makai and sees him sitting on a throne next to him. It's only Lord Enma's claim on Tsuzuki that keeps him from simply taking the shinigami. Now that Tsuzuki has refused to join Makai of his own free will Mahorath's been waiting for him to slip his control over the demon he harbors inside, like he did when he was seventeen. That would give him a good excuse to declare him a child of hell and simply take him away."

"A slip?" Tatsumi asked, "Like killing the temple spirit?"

"The temple spirit was just an illusion created by the Makai pawn Nourian. It wasn't even part of the trial, just an excuse to start the show. After that, Tsuzuki's been put through a lot of tests but so far, he's come out of all of them without failing." The Earl said.

Tatsumi's eyes sparkled. "So that means Mahorath has lost and they should let Tsuzuki go."

"Almost," the Earl replied, " like I said before, Lord Mahorath was about to admit defeat when one of the delegates asked for another try, and was granted. Which means that Tsuzuki has to go through one last test."

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. For some reason he felt uncomfortable with the whole idea of that last test. He had no trouble guessing who the delegate was who'd suggested it. He remembered the prosecutor and the wicked glee he always got from tormenting his friend. If he thought this one chance was enough to break Tsuzuki after so many failures it only mean he was up to something very evil.

And evil in Isorou Masaki's book took a whole new meaning.

-------------------------------

Isorou leaned back in his chair, looking at the single lamp glowing on his desk. He had dismissed Nourian a while ago, telling her to turn off all the lamps on her way out. Now he sat alone, thinking about things untouched.

He could barely remember his life as a shinigami. It had been so short, and so…unfair. The people around him, his so called coworkers, were a bunch of idiots. Playing all day, goofing around the office, not caring about anything. He had hated them, hated their carelessness, their lack of responsibility. There was a job to do, so much work for such a small department but none of them seemed to care, so he ended up doing all the work himself while they were out partying their lazy asses all night long. His stupid partner was no exception.

No matter what they said, he didn't regret not saving the scatterbrained baka from the monster instead of finishing the job. It had been the kid's fault to begin with and besides, Isorou was a practical person not an emotional one. So what if the jerk came back all wounded and accused him of being selfish and cold. Like he cared what the bunch of them thought of him. Oh, and like it was a big deal if he'd used black magic he had drawn from the monster to win the battle. It was his power for gods' sake. They were just brats trying to make a big fuss out of nothing.

His features darkened when remembering what had happened next. Now looking at it through retrospect - seeing that he was older and much wiser - he knew that using that black magic hadn't been his smartest move. Or at least he should have made sure he'd killed all the demons and had no witnesses. But even if the surviving demons hadn't told Mahorath, or Enma, or whatever frying deity they obeyed, the murmurs that had started around JuOhCho after his stupid partner came back would have been enough to raise their heads.

In the end, the one he could least forgive for how much he had suffered had been Enma Diao himself. Oh, he hated those crude, conceited colleagues of his who always bragged about being there for everyone yet didn't even lift a finger when he was taken away for his trial, and turned deaf ears to his screams. Yet still, and above all, the focus of his rage was the God of the Dead himself, the lord who had forsaken him.

Was it better to work for Mahorath instead of that traitor god? Did he like more what he did now?

Honestly it was too hard to say. For one thing, he didn't have a heart anymore to feel anything akin to 'like' or 'dislike', hate or love. Having friends was meaningless and a waste of time and he was glad that hell's people weren't into that kind of thing. Same with having a partner since all those who aided him in his job were temporary. Like the irritating and utterly stupid Nourian. Shrill and talkative and without a shred of intelligence. Yet she was still better than her light counterpart, the pathetically sentimental Yano Ayaka, who was so dense she had started having feelings for their victim.

Even that blonde scientist was a means to achieve his goals. It was true that he had visited him a lot since he'd come here, had admired how hardworking and serious the man was in a time when the rest of their pitiful division was groveling just because their friend was a little hurt. It was true that he sometimes, very rarely for sure, fantasized about how it would have been if the two of them had been real friends, tried to pretend they were before the moron brought up the ridiculous issue of that condemned shinigami or the God damn kid again and ruined his fun. In the end, it was all part of the mission. It would have been nice if things were different, that man Watari had a lot of potential, but then again, it was his own damn fault he was hanging out with and defending the wrong crowd.

And Tsuzuki Asato? He wasn't even sure whether he despised the man or loved hurting him. He was the epitome of everything he had worked against, fought against and suffered for in his life and afterlife. The kind of lowlife lazy scum that reminded him of his old coworkers that were only there to occupy a space they didn't deserve. The slacker actually thought he was better than the rest because everyone cooed and pampered him, living in their ignorant silly world of what they thought was good and insulting all the decent, hardworking employees of any organization like a slap to their face.

Then again, it could be because the young man possessed some mighty persuasive magic that made everyone fall for him. He knew this because, at times, even he had felt it. Although he had never allowed himself to reflect on it, he knew the weakness was there, and its existence alone - in a crystallized heart such as his - proved just how dangerously powerful the shinigami's magic was. It was probably the same spell that had allowed him to last all this time under the strain of his extreme methods of breaking.

But that wouldn't be for long, he thought as he looked back at the table. Leaning forward once more, the gray haired man took the files in his hand and stared at the picture of the two targets he had chosen to use in his last attempt at winning. "Attachment", he thought. That was their weakness. And if you wanted to fight vermin like these properly, the way to go about it was through their weaknesses. He would do it no matter what. He would see this assignment to its end and make sure it would be a lesson to all of them. To these people as well as his former colleagues, and to the ones who came before them and the ones who came after.

---------------------

The swordsman's silence and the sounds of the night was what filled the air after Hisoka finished his story in the KoKakuRo garden. Oriya didn't interrupt him at any point, just leaned back against the pillar and took occasional drags from his pipe. When his silence stretched too long after the boy had gone quiet Hisoka looked up with a look of expectation in his eyes.

"That my boy, is a shit load of trouble," the longhaired man finally said.

"I know that. That's why I'm here asking for help, to fix it." Hisoka answered with frustration.

Oriya let his calm gaze fall on him. "Why you again, Bon? Aren't there any other more experienced, adult shinigamis to take care of this?"

Hisoka shook his head angrily." Everyone's doing what they can. But this is ultimately my responsibility. I'm the one who swore to protect Tsuzuki last time I was here. And look at the way things are now. Barely six months and we're back at the beginning, with Tsuzuki in trouble and me helpless to do anything about it. It only means one thing, I've failed." He let his head hang between his knees.

A soft hand touched his shoulder. "You worry too much, Bon. Anyone ever told you that? Taking care of that puppy is a tough job. Are you sure you're cut out for such a responsibility?"

"He always does it for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Tsuzuki. I mean, it's tough taking care of me too, what with my empathy problems and Muraki and all…But he never complains. He's always just sort of, there. When I need him he's there and doesn't even mention it later as if protecting me is the most routine natural thing in the world." He raised his head, "I want to do the same, Oriya-san. But I always fail somehow."

"You didn't fail last time." Oriya said with a smirk, blowing puffs of smoke in the air.

"I wouldn't call it a success either. He almost killed himself."

"Almost. That is the important word here. You have to understand that sometimes things are not in our control the way we want them."

"But to lose him again like this. Losing him to that man… that awful, dreadful man, and having to watch him suffer like that. It makes me feel so mad."

"Remember what I said last time? Everyone has their own reason for doing the things they do. You, I, Muraki… and that awful dreadful man. We all live and act the way we do for our own personal purposes." He put the pipe back in his mouth.

Hisoka stared, waiting for him to say more. When it became apparent that the man wasn't going to – appearing to be lost again in the misty smokes of his pipe - Hisoka rose, feeling tired and aiming to go back.

Oriya's voice came to him. "If you still want those lessons after thinking things over come here in two nights and I'll see what I can do. Remember however, steel doesn't solve all problems. For some, you have to cut deeper, deeper than even the blade can go. And for those cuts, you need something sharper than a sword."

Hisoka frowned. "Spare me your philosophies, sensei, and show me how to fight. See you in two nights. And give my regards to your dear friend, Dr. Muraki."

That made the swordsman laugh. "Sure, if I ever see him I will. But chances are you'll see him sooner if he ever decides to show up. He always looks for his dolls first after he wakes up." He enjoyed the slight wince in the boy's shoulders after hearing that. He was a fun kid to tease.

"Ja-ne." Hisoka didn't spare him another glace as he walked across the courtyard and into the streets. The alleys he stepped into were utterly quite and dark. The atmosphere seemed eerie that hour of the night and it gave him a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. Instinctively, he looked up at the moon. It was bright white and fully round. Hisoka kicked himself for showing weakness, as if something could happen to an empath who could sense the stealthiest creature in the world if it snuck up on him. Or was it because of Oriya's last comment about Muraki? He should really get a hold of himself and stop getting all worked up whenever Muraki's name was mentioned.

But then again, where was his uneasy feeling coming from? Hisoka asked himself as he walked through the dark alley. I feel like I'm being followed. All of a sudden the hair at the nape of his neck stood up and he quickly turned around, hand on his sword. He could swear he had heard something, or felt, he couldn't really tell. "I'm going nuts. Must go back to Meifu fast." He said as he turned to continue on.

He saw it then. Someone standing at the mouth of the alley holding a light. Hisoka felt his heart beat faster; his empathy flaring up and reaching the other person only to find out there was nothing to touch. The figure, whoever it was, was either completely void of emotions or shielding itself too well. He gathered all his courage and started walking toward it.

A woman, dressed in black. Wind blew in her blonde her and Hisoka immediately backed off as soon as he recognized her face.

"You…what the hell are you doing here?" he yelled.

"Shhhh, come here Hisoka. Take a look."

It was then that Hisoka realized what the evil woman was doing. She was standing in the middle of the road and holding her hands in front of her face like a bird was about to land on them. Only, instead of a bird, there was a floating light slightly above her palms and she was looking into it.

"I don't want to play any of your games, witch." Hisoka said.

"Even if it involves your partner?" She replied, throwing him a sidelong glance.

That got Hisoka's attention. Tentatively he stepped closer and looked at the light. He didn't know what he was looking for.

"What do you mean? What about Tsuzuki?"

"Look." She motioned at the light.

Hisoka looked closer and all of a sudden saw an image projected there. It was of Tsuzuki, bound and on his knees as he'd been for the past…gods knew how long. And another person. Hisoka narrowed his eyes. Who was there with Tsuzuki? A man, long white coat, silver white hair. He had his hand on Tsuzuki's cheek, and his partner was shivering.

Hisoka saw red.

"Muraki!"

And then the world turned upside down. As if hell had broken loose large columns of red and orange light shot from the ground toward the sky from all around him. Hisoka immediately became alert and tried to back away as fast as he could but he was caught. Through the light and the flares and the earsplitting roars he saw Nourian's wicked face brighten with a smile, or was it a sneer? Light shown from under her chin giving her a creepy look that matched her character. He knew it had been a mistake from the beginning to trust her.

"You are really naïve, bouya. And for that you will pay." Muraki's voice was coming from her mouth.

It was too much. With the last vestiges of his power Hisoka tried to break the spell. But then Nourian's face seemed to draw him in. The light exploded and filled every inch of space around him and he felt sucked into it. No amount of clawing, punching or screaming helped. He knew he was lost then, and that there was no one left to rescue him.

----------------------------------------------

" I need to go."

Tatsumi's first words after a long interval of silence came spoken from where he sat at the table.

"You just came in, why not rest the night?" the Earl replied.

"No," he shook his head, "I thought I could help Tsuzuki-san. Now I know better but can do less. I should've stayed by his side."

"You did help him. It was because of you – because of your stubbornness - that I asked EnmaDiao to speed up the proceedings."

"It wasn't enough."

"It was all you had in your ability."

"No, I should have stayed and tried to defeat the prosecutor with my powers. That would have been the extent of my ability."

"Why are you being so hard on yourself, Tatsumi-san?"

"I'm not-"

"Do you still love him so much?"

Tatsumi mouth opened but no sound came out.

The Earl leaned forward in his chair, steepling his fingers.

"Your shock doesn't surprise me. You are like that. You think no one knows, that no one has eyes."

Tatsumi remained speechless. He continued staring at the Earl.

"Tell me, Tatsumi-san. Have you ever told him about your feelings? It's true that everyone else knows but Tsuzuki-san is a different case. He is a bit oblivious when it comes to such matters."

"I- I don't know what you're talking about, Hakushaku-san. Tsuzuki-san and I… we're just…I mean - there's nothing between us but what's in the past."

The Earl gave a knowing smile. "Sure, make sure you remind him of that everyday."

"What do you mean, Hakushaku-san? I don't understand-."

"Tatsumi-san," the mask tilted. The Earl's voice was both playful and reprimanding, "Everyone knows I love Tsuzuki-san. Even he knows it and that's why he does his best to run away from me. I have no reservations showing my feelings towards him because we both know what a cheerful and lovable person he is. I enjoy it and I'm sure at times he enjoys it too. Try to take an example."

Tatsumi rolled his eyes. "Hakushaku-san, with all do respect, I don't think I'd ever be able to be as upfront as you are. You may not know but people think- "

"..that I'm a pervert. Yes, I'm aware of that, but I'm not ashamed of my feelings, and when it's time to express them I sure don't hesitate. You better learn this from me. Just as you taught me not to hesitate rescuing the one I love I want to teach you not to hold back showing him that you care."

Tatsumi looked at him for a long time, surprised. He'd never expected Hakushaku –pervert first class – to be this deep.

"I'll keep that in mind, Hakushaku-san."

"Great, then I guess that makes us serious rivals. Make sure not to forget your sword next time you meet me. We might have to go on a duel."

It took Tatsumi a while to get it. The Earl was joking with him and he was too concerned with his worries to be entertained. Then again, how could you figure a joke out on a guy who had no face and consequently, no facial expressions?

"He really is something, isn't he?" The Earl asked in that same playful voice.

"He is…" Tatsumi hesitated, short for words.

He heard the Earl sigh. The mask tilted down a bit before it rose again, looking at him.

"Be there for him, Tatsumi-san. He needs our affection as much as our protection, to keep him safe from falling into the abyss of self-doubt. Don't get so lost in your sense of protectiveness that you ignore his other needs."

Tatsumi dropped his head. "I'll do my best Hakushaku-san," he looked up then, "and…I guess I should say…thank you."

"Anytime," he said it like someone making a secret pact with an old friend, "and anything… for Tsuzuki-san."

Just then the doors to the room opened and Watson walked in. He had a troubled look on his face and before anyone could ask one of Isorou's minions appeared on his heals.

Tatsumi and the Earl both leaped from their seats. Watson shrugged. The creature stood still for a few moments before looking at each of them and then floating toward Tatsumi. When it got close he reached into its cloak and took out a note.

"He's requested your presence." It said in a deep voice.

Tatsumi took the note and read it.

_ Meet me by the tree across from where your precious friend is. Come alone. I might feel generous today._

_-Isorou_

He crumpled the letter in his fist and set out for the door. Before he could reach it however Hakushaku's voice rose at his back.

"It might be a trap."

He hesitated, fist still clenched around the paper and trembling.

"Of course it is. But I still have to go. If there is the slightest chance..."

The Earl folded his hands together. For a while it seemed like he was contemplating his answer, then, "I wish you the best of luck, Tatsumi-san." It was said in a low yet confident voice. As if he had all the trust in the world in the man in front of him.

"Thank you, Hakushaku-san." said Tatsumi, sharing the trust. He then followed the creature outside.

The Earl sat there for a long time, looking at the door that had closed behind his guest just a minute ago. He was thinking about many things, unpleasant and otherwise. Yet there was this strange feeling inside his heart, as if he had just said goodbye to a long lost friend whom he had met after a long time. It was a strange feeling he couldn't explain.

To be continued…

So there you have it. Please, please let me know what you think, I'm so much in need of motivation since most of this is written while I'm very very sleepy (I'm taking time out of my sleep because cutting school time is out of question.) So I really need to know that there is someone out there enjoying it.

And just to tease your minds a little, here is another **question**:

"What do you guess Isorou's grand plan is, and what is Nourian's part in it?"


	13. Phase 7: Apocalypse—Part 1

Hi everyone, it's time for another exciting chapter of "The Trial". Thank you for all your reviews, they really gave me encouragement to not slack off like last time and I was really focused and dedicated in writing this even though I had twice as much work to do at school.

This chapter was really hard to write. The amount of action, emotion and mental gameplay that went into it made me have to write and rewrite certain parts again and again. But I think I'm satisfied with how it came out. This is the first part of a two or three part finale (I'm not sure yet) where you finally see the outcome of the story.

There was a question asked by meg in the reviews: How come Tsuzuki and Isorou never heard from each other during their time as shinigamis? The answer could be that Isorou hadn't been a shinigami for that long when he was sentenced to the trial. After the trial, as I mentioned in the story, all data on him was erased so neither did he have time to get to know any of the other shinigamis nor anyone else was able to get to know him.

**Things that happened in the last chapter:**

Tatsumi met the Earl and they had a heart to heart talk about Tsuzuki, at the end of which Tatsumi received a message from Isorou to go and meet him where Tsuzuki was kept. Meanwhile Hisoka went to see Oriya and asked him for kendo lessons. On his way back however, he ran into Nourian who ensnared him with her magic as part of Isorou's master plan to finally break Tsuzuki.

The Trial—Chapter Twelve 

He always followed the same routine when something was done. The lights were out, the burners turned off save for those with slow reacting chemicals still boiling in colorful beakers on top of them. Those he left alone, knowing that eventually even the slowest reacting experiments would come to fruition. Time was the only deciding factor there. Time and the belief that the passage of it would eventually make things right.

He strode across the lab, realizing he had forgotten to shut down the computer. Not that it terribly mattered since no one could access his account without his knowing about it. Still, in a situation like this where half-angels and vengeful demons prowled the facilities you could never be too careful.

Another stride, this time to the messy desk on the side of the lab, to retrieve keys and his cellphone. A light was flashing on it, a text message from Tatsumi.

Watari grabbed the phone tightly in his hand and looked at the screen. Fingers so tense they shook as he punched in the code to check the message. 'Tatsumi… I had forgotten about you. Where are you? Please Enma-sama, let it be happy news this time. Let it be that … for a change.'

He looked at the message for a long time. Thinking, gauging the meaning. 'It is over, isn't it, Tatsumi? That's what you're trying to tell me. But what do you mean by that's an order? Are you saying it's all come down to this and you want me out of it? Are you truly out of your mind? What are you planning to do? I need to know, Tatsumi-san. I need to know when you'll be facing ultimate evil so I could be there to protect you. Yes, _me _protecting _you_, Tatsumi-san. Because, sadly enough, there is no one else left to protect.

'Which reminds me, have I told you Hisoka has gone missing since last night?

'We have to do this together, Tatsumi-san. Shinigami work in pairs. And I thought I'd never have to remind you of that.'

He closed the last cabinet door and turned off the last light. The lab plunged into darkness very much like his mood. He couldn't shake the feeling of finality out of his senses. Maybe he should have worked on something that would bring everything back to the way it was before this all had happened. Before the Holy Spirit, Isorou and the nightmare. He didn't have that, but at least he had _something. _He reached into his pocket and squeezed the small bottle he had placed there. It might not be enough he thought, might even be of no use at all, but at least it was something real he could feel in his hand.

'I will not leave any of you alone, I promise. I may not have magic powers of your caliber or strength beyond what I have endured, but I can give you what I have: my gift of science. I won't let you face the demons alone. Tatsumi, Hisoka,…Tsuzuki. I will be there. I promise you that.

He closed the door behind him as he left, bottle still clutched in hand. Time for scientific research was long over.

------------------

The wind had picked up again, unrelenting and cold, when Tatsumi reached the top of the short hill. Isorou was there, standing tall in his usual clean-cut suit. Yet all Tatsumi could see was Tsuzuki on his knees. Tsuzuki's head was hanging low and the chocolate brown tresses of his hair blew in the wind. Even as Tatsumi's heart trembled at the sight he forced himself to stay focused and keep his eyes on the enemy although they insisted on straying towards his love. It had been more than a week since he had seen Tsuzuki. When he had left the young shinigami, he was still aware although intensely struggling with the pain, and he had been sitting tall on his knees despite the harshness of his condition. Now, what he saw was an empty shell of the man he used to know. Soaked with blood and rain, there was not a single spot on Tsuzuki's shirt that wasn't stained. His pant knees and parts of his shirt were torn, and through the gaps his wounds were showing. The winding of the barbed wire had forced his upper body to hang from his outstretched arms in a painful way. Tatsumi couldn't see his face but right now, strange as it may sound, he was grateful for it.

It was an effort to turn his head away and acknowledge the fact that the appalling prosecutor was talking to him.

"…finally showed up. I thought a simple invitation wouldn't be enough."

"What do you want?" asked Tatsumi.

Isorou's eyes squinted and his mouth formed a thin line. "Did you have a pleasant time with the Earl?" he asked.

"None of your business." Tatsumi replied.

The thin line turned into a smirk and like a predator, Isorou strode to where Tsuzuki was. Hooking the toe of one shoe under the shinigami's chin, he lifted the delicate face to flaunt it before the secretary's eyes, saying, "I thought under the known circumstances we had established, you would already know that around here, business-wise I mean, pretty much everything is mine." He emphasized his words by giving the unconscious shinigami's head a slight shove.

Tatsumi's eyes were glued on the tormented face. The rest of Isorou's speech was lost to his ears in the roar of blood that had rushed to his head at the sight of his beloved's face so helpless and in pain. Tsuzuki had been crying, the dirty tear tracks on his face evidence to that. He must have been in so much pain before he had passed out. The thought of his friend's quiet suffering where there had been no one to comfort him was too much for Tatsumi to take.

Just then a whimper escaped the thinly parted lips and Tsuzuki's eyelashes trembled without him opening his eyes.

Tatsumi almost lost it when he saw Tsuzuki wasn't entirely unconscious after all.

"You are hurting him. Leave him alone, you bastard," he yelled.

"Then do as I say." Isorou barked, releasing Tsuzuki and walking back to Tatsumi. "Answer me when I ask you a question and you won't cause more suffering for your friend."

Tatsumi badly wanted to beat the man to death but he knew it wasn't possible. The rules were still the same. If he fought the evil man Tsuzuki would pay the price. Instead of giving an answer to Isorou's challenge he simply looked away.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Isorou's snapped. Tatsumi met his eyes evenly.

"When I speak, you listen. When I ask a question, you answer. And you always, always look me in the eyes when I speak to you, understood?" said Isorou.

Tatsumi gritted his teeth and nodded very slightly. He looked at Tsuzuki, helpless and at the mercy of his good behavior and it was enough for him to suppress his pride.

It was the day when Tatsumi Seiichiroudiscovered that pride was not a banner you could hold constantly over your head. He learned that sometimes you would have to drop that banner, trample it with your feet and leave it on the ground, especially when it came to a slacking, broken, underpaid employee.

The one person he loved most in the world.

He hung his head in defeat.

"Get on one knee." Isorou ordered.

Tatsumi obeyed, head still bowed. The ground was cold meeting his skin, wet and moldy. How had Tsuzuki held out for so long? He could see some worms coming out of their holes because of the rain.

Isorou was towering over him now. "Look up at me." Two sets of eyes met, one guarded, the other full of vengeful enjoyment. "Now tell me what the Earl told you."

"Everything. I know that you are not a prosecutor of EnmaDiao's court but a butcher sent by Lord Mahorath."

Isorou's eyes sparkled. "I see. So you know you have no chance against me until the trial is over."

"I also know that Mahorath considers the trial long over and that it's you who still insists on upholding it," Tatsumi said.

The satisfied look didn't disappear on the other's face, but the gray eyes darkened. The prosecutor moved to stand over Tsuzuki, looking down and speaking in a distant voice that betrayed no emotion, like he was talking to himself.

"It ain't over till I say it's over."

As if sensing the evil presence close to him Tsuzuki's body shuddered and he let out a soft moan. Tatsumi shut his eyes.

"At least let me go to him," he begged.

Isorou looked his way. "Under one condition."

"Name it. You've already taken everything from us. What more could you possibly want?"

Casually, Isorou walked back to him, studying the kneeling man with cold eyes.

"I will ask you questions," he said, "and you will answer all of them truthfully. If you lie, or refuse to answer, I will revoke all the privileges I have allowed you with your friend."

Tatsumi gaped. Was that all? Answers to his ridiculous questions? It couldn't be. There was definitely something behind the uncharacteristic lenience that the evil prosecutor was hiding. He would not let him to Tsuzuki so easily if it weren't part of his big devastating plan.

But then, who was he to look the gift horse in the mouth.

"I accept."

"Alright," Isorou stepped aside, clearing a path for Tatsumi, "he is all yours, for now."

Tatsumi leaped to his feet and ran to Tsuzuki, dropping down and kneeling by him. Careful not to touch the shinigami too roughly and irritate his wounds he wrapped his arms around him and proceeded to take some of the weight off of Tsuzuki's outstretched arms.

Tsuzuki weakly cracked open his eyes, looking at Tatsumi with a bleary, bewildered gaze. "Tatsumi…-san?" he whispered, disbelief lacing his voice, and then jolted, trying to free himself from the embrace.

"Shhh," Tatsumi cooed, "It's ok, It's ok. I'm here, Tsuzuki-san. Don't worry." He tried to keep his voice soothing as he stroked the shinigami's dark brown hair at the back of his head.

"No, you're not," Tsuzuki sobbed, leaning his cheek against the broad familiar chest and letting his tears fall, "You are… an illusion. Just like the rest of them. Like…Muraki. She… makes me…see you." He turned his head then, burying his face in the fabric of Tatsumi's suit, and cried. "I'm so tired. Why won't it end? Tatsumi-san, tell me why it won't end? I can't take any more."

Tsuzuki was leaning into him like a child, despite his belief that Tatsumi was just another ghost. The shadow master liked to believe – and was actually partly sure – that deep down inside Tsuzuki knew that he was the real Tatsumi, but had been deceived so many times and hurt because of it that he didn't want to keep the hope up.

He continued petting the shinigami's head. "It's all right, Tsuzuki-san. I'm not an illusion. I'm real." Gently he pulled away to look at Tsuzuki's face. "Look at me, love. Do you not see the real me? Do you truly think this is an illusion?"

The purple eyes stared back, child-like and glazed. "Nightmares are illusions, they know nothing about feelings. They don't cry, and they don't bleed." Tsuzuki recited in a monotone. Tatsumi was confused by the seemingly meaningless words. He looked into Tsuzuki's eyes and in their depths saw Tsuzuki's soul breaking in a way none of his past experiences had managed to do. He could feel his friend slipping away from him, and in an instance of pure clarity, realized that there was nothing he could do. He was too late saving Tsuzuki.

"What have you done to him?" He gritted between his teeth.

"I'm asking the questions here." Isorou replied.

Tatsumi looked up with hatred in his eyes. "The trial is over. He endured everything you did to him and more. You are just grasping for straws. Why won't you admit that you've lost and let him be?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"It is none of your freaking bus--" Tatsumi almost said it before remembering his promise to the prosecutor. He clamped down on his anger and lowered his eyes, keeping up the gentle ministration of Tsuzuki's hair.

"I care because…he's my friend."

"What a lame answer. I might have actually believed it had I not peered into his dreams. Now tell me the real answer like you promised you would."

Tatsumi's hand tightened into a fist, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "What do you want me to tell you?" He growled. "That I still dream about him nights? That I can't imagine a day without his smile, his beautiful purple eyes? That the look he gives me every morning as I come into the office is the only thing that keeps me going all day? That there isn't a day I don't blame myself for hurting him the way I did back when I thought I was doing the right thing?" He opened his eyes and looked up in pain. "What do you want from me? You know I can never have him so why do you make me say it?"

Strangely enough, Isorou's features softened at the confession. "Do you still love him?" he asked.

"Would it make a difference if I did?"

"Answer my question with a sentence, not a question."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes I love him."

Isorou smiled. "Then you must feel extremely jealous of the boy."

Tatsumi froze.

Of course he was talking about Hisoka. But what was this all about? How could that man accuse him of such a thing? How could he dare? When it was Tatsumi in the first place who had suggested Hisoka to be paired up with Tsuzuki.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted, "You think you know everything but your knowledge is as primitive as that of an animal."

Isorou lifted an eyebrow. "You're going to deny it? Are you saying you don't even feel a slight bit of jealousy when you see them sitting together under the sakura trees, the boy's head resting on his shoulder? Not even when they stay over at each other's places, something you never dared do outside the assignments? When his eyes brighten and dance every time he sees that scrawny kid coming towards him?"

Tatsumi's breathing quickened. Horrified, he turned to look if Tsuzuki was listening and saw the shinigami's eyes closed, looking like he was sleeping. He turned back to his tormentor and tried to gather all his strength for his reply.

"You are a pitiful being, Isorou Masaki. How dare you say something like this? Is this your way of putting a guilt trip on me or are you trying another method for tormenting Tsuzuki-san?"

Isorou smirked. "No, I'm actually looking for the truth, Tatsumi-san. And no matter what you say, all evidence points at your guilt in this matter, your incessant fascination with the condemned shinigami as well as your utmost jealousy of his current partner."

Tatsumi couldn't believe it. What was the man trying to achieve? Or was it fun he was taking out of all these questions? He opened his mouth to deny the claim again but felt something inside him screech to a halt. He had sworn to Hakushaku-sama that he would tell the truth, even before his imposed bargain with Isorou. He had promised to be true to himself when it came to his feelings for Tsuzuki.

Was he being completely truthful now?

"Tell me it doesn't bother you when you see their joined happiness. Tell me you don't feel sad or lonely when they leave together after work everyday, without you."

Tatsumi was quiet. He was looking at the ground - Tsuzuki still held protectively in his arms – or else he would have seen the malicious smile that formed on Isorou's lips.

"I do feel…lonely, sometimes." Tatsumi replied.

"Excellent. Finally a true confession. How about angry? When the kid steals him away from you, do you feel any anger?"

"S-sometimes, maybe."

"Maybe?"

Tatsumi looked up sharply. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Now answer, does it make you angry?"

"No, all I want is for Tsuzuki to be happy. Even if it is with someone else. I can accept it as long as he is happy." And that answer was the truth.

Yet, Isorou still continued the challenge. "How about when he is _not _happy with the boy. I'm told the boy is quiet a bit of work most of the times. How about when his sour mood flares up and happens to lash out at his partner?"

"Hisoka has had a very tough life, his soul is very fragile. As adults, we know how to help him without reprimanding him for his mistakes." Tatsumi answered.

"What about the times he scolded Asato? What about that time he left him in the rain, crying, and you found him and took him home? You did have a talk with the boy the next day, didn't you?"

Tatsumi didn't bother to ask how the man knew. After hearing so much, he already knew the extent of the powers these hell pawns possessed and how they could read into someone's even most private memories. Instead he decided to continue with his position of telling the truth. Thus far, it seemed to have worked best.

The incident Isorou was referring to had not been too long ago. Hisoka had had a bad day, and Tsuzuki, the oblivious puppy that he was, had pushed a little too far in his attempt to cheer the boy up. The result had been a catastrophe, ending with Hisoka yelling at a crying Tsuzuki in the rain and running away from him with the promise to ask for a new partner right the next morning. Tsuzuki had sat on the ground where he had been left, tears streaming down his face and his hand clutching the tiny gift he had bought for his partner for their anniversary. It had been a nightmare getting him back on his feet and believing once again that he wasn't worthless or a nuisance.

Tatsumi winced at the memory. "I _was_… quite angry that time. It was also because Tsuzuki had been innocent. It was just a matter of bad judgment and one that I felt I had to clear up."

"Did you reprimand the boy then? Did you yell at him? Tell him how wrong he had been? Did you make him understand how he had no right to hurt 'your Tsuzuki-san'?"

"I don't remember." Tatsumi said.

"Sure you do." Isorou replied. "And I can tell you even took pleasure in it, finally releasing you pent up frustration at the kid who didn't appreciate the treasure you'd so readily laid at his feet."

"Sure. Whatever you say."

"Would you get really mad if this Hisoka truly hurt your Tsuzuki-san? Would you go as far as attacking the boy?"

Tatsumi only raised his head but didn't look at the prosecutor. There was a strange expression on his face.

Shadows all around them became restless.

"Would you kill him? If he harmed Asato?"

Tatsumi felt his bones ache, there was a cloud forming in his chest. Shadows began to slowly rise from the ground. Yet they didn't matter much to Isorou.

"Answer me, Tatsumi-san."

Tatsumi finally looked him in the eyes.

"I would kill anyone who hurts Tsuzuki-san."

"Even Kurosaki Hisoka?"

"Even him."

Silence. Stare…

"Tat--Tatsumi-san."

The voice that finally broke the moment was Tsuzuki's, and it drew all of Tatsumi's attention to him.

"Tsuzuki-san, are you awake? How are you feeling?"

"I--I heard Hisoka's name. Is he here?" Tsuzuki whispered.

The blue in Tatsumi's beautiful eyes darkened, his expression masking any feelings he might have held. "No. Kurosaki-kun isn't here."

He didn't notice that Isorou had stepped away. Didn't see the shadowy figure that slowly appeared out of thin air, holding a deadly sharp blade with both hands.

It was the voice that pulled him out of the space he had locked himself and Tsuzuki in.

"You perverted psychopath, get your filthy hands off of him."

Tatsumi turned in shock, and saw Hisoka standing a distance away with a katana in his hands and a mad look on his face. Like waking from a bad dream to a reality even worse, Tatsumi blinked to clear his vision; unsure if what he was seeing was true of a product of his tormented, befuddled mind.

It didn't take him long to realize Hisoka wasn't looking at the prosecutor but at him.

"What…have you done to him?" he said to Isorou as he stood up.

Isorou was standing on the sideline now as if clearing the field for the two of them. His reply was accompanied by a chuckle. "Not much. It's been fun messing with his head, drawing out what had been inside for so long, just like the things that had been inside of your head. You remember the confession you made only minutes ago, don't you? Neither of you are the saints you claim you are."

"I never claimed to be a saint. I have sinned in my life, and afterlife. But nothing to warrant Kurosaki-kun's hatred."

Isorou coughed his laughter this time. "Then could it be that he's mistaken you for someone else, maybe?" He raised an eyebrow and the smile on his lips reached his ears.

With horrified apprehension Tatsumi turned to the motionless figure standing with the sword. In a heartbeat everything fell into place. They had done the unthinkable and now he was the one who'd have to pay the price, along with Hisoka and perhaps even…

His heart sank as he turned sharply and saw Tsuzuki staring at the scene with frightened purple eyes.

'No…!'

His eyes sent daggers when he looked back at the demon of a man. "You did this, didn't you? You made him lose his mind, and now he thinks I'm…."

"I suggest you keep your guard up, Tatsumi-san. I've heard the boy's extremely good at kendo and wouldn't hesitate killing the one who's hurt his partner." Isorou sneered.

As if on cue, Hisoka let out a loud shriek and charged toward Tatsumi with blinding speed. Although Tatsumi had excepted it, the swiftness of the attack as well as the fluidity with which Hisoka moved the sword clearly took him off guard.

The cut on the back of his hand hurt way more than it should, and the pain rendered his left hand almost useless. He lost his balance and fell to the ground, looking up bewildered as the boy stood still at the end of his ark. The wound that was supposed to heal in a few short seconds continued bleeding in gushes.

"Oh, and I forgot to tell you. That is a special sword he's holding. It's blessed with my personal charms and said to have the effect of slowing down a shinigami's healing so I guess you should be extra careful if you are going to fight him." Isorou suggested helpfully.

Tatsumi, cradling his injured hand, shot an angry glare his way and snapped, "Thanks, but I'm not planning on fighting with him so--."

His sentence was cut short when Hisoka released another ear-piercing cry and lunged at him with the naked blade raised over his head. Tatsumi barely managed to roll away and get on his feet quickly, his eyes widening.

"In that, my friend, you have regrettably very little choice," the gray haired man commented nonchalantly.

Tatsumi's eyes were fixed on the livid boy as Hisoka turned around promptly and threw himself at him with the sword held above his head again.

He tried to evade the attack once more but Hisoka had anticipated his move this time and didn't allow him the opening. As soon as he shifted to one side Hisoka blocked his way and the sword came slicing down his shoulder and arm.

He had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out.

Standing on the sideline still, Isorou saw the secretary wince as the new wound was inflicted and exclaimed, "Why won't you use your shadows on him, kagetsukai?"

Tatsumi glared at him for a split second before he was forced to turn back to the fight. It was getting harder and harder to remain passive in the battle. Though young, Hisoka showed remarkable skill in wielding the blade, possibly due to his hours of training in the dojo. Still, Tatsumi could have easily defeated him with his shadow magic if he were inclined to do so, and risk hurting the boy.

Another slash, this time across his thigh, made his resolve slightly falter.

Isorou continued observing the scene for a few more seconds before turning his attention to his true objective, taking the few steps to reach the man hanging in his barbs who appeared to have fallen unconscious once again.

"Asato, you are awake?" he called.

The dark haired shinigami whimpered quietly before raising his head and looking at the prosecutor, his eyes blurry and wet. Like a trapped bird he had started shivering again.

"Look Asato, your friends are here." He pointed at the field in front of them where the fight was happening. Slowly Tsuzuki turned his head and stared at the scene, not able to completely comprehend what he was seeing.

"… 'ts going on?" he asked shakily.

"Don't you recognize them? That's your partner Kurosaki Hisoka…."

Just then, Hisoka performed another skilful move and got his sword to slash Tatsumi across the chest. Frustrated and more than a little hurt, the kagetsukai acted on pure instinct and a shadow rose from one side to lash at the charging boy. In an instant Hisoka was knocked to the ground.

"And that," Isorou added triumphantly, "is our resident shadow master, Tatsumi Seiichiro."

For an indeterminable length of time Tsuzuki only stared. He might have looked frozen to anyone else seeing him, encouraging them to leave him alone. But Isorou waited, patiently, for the information to sink in and for the result he was looking for to present itself.

"No," the shinigami finally croaked, "It's… another illusion, isn't it?"

"Oh, you think so?" Isorou said, "But look, the boy is crying. And your friend Tatsumi is loosing so much blood."

It was true. Hisoka was in tears as his attacks became more and more desperate. It was harder for him to strike now that the shadows were fighting back. Even still, Tatsumi's attacks were still mostly on the defensive side. As Hisoka held the blade level to his chest and parallel to the ground in preparation for a head on strike, Tatsumi called on a new set of shadows rising like tendrils from the ground and wrapping themselves around the empath's arms and legs. Hisoka struggled wildly against them, but his waning strength was no match for the kagetsukai's powerful magic. He lost his footing and fell on the ground on his back, his sword clattering a few feet away.

Seeing the opening he's been waiting for Tatsumi lunged himself at Hisoka and pinned the boy down before the struggling teenager could free his limbs from the confining hold of the shadows.

They were both out of breath, panting hard and looking each other in the face, one soaked with tears and the other dripping blood. Until Tatsumi asked, "Kurosaki-kun, what is the matter with you?"

Hisoka didn't reply, only attempted another abortive leap to get himself free. When that proved futile, his body went limp and he stared right up into the eyes of the man who was holding him. He whispered, "You can do whatever you want with me but don't you dare touch him again. Don't you think you've caused enough damage already?"

The words were nonsense to Tatsumi yet they still struck a painful cord deep inside him that he couldn't comprehend. "Kurosaki-kun," he responded, "What in the world are you talking about?"

Hisoka's head turned to the side, defeated. He continued as if Tatsumi hadn't spoken at all. "You chase him, catch him, beat him, rape him, cut him with your knives. You wrap your darkness around him, around everything you touch, just like you did to me. But you've already left your mark on me. I'm tainted by you. I won't let you taint him as well."

Understanding flashed in Tatsumi's eyes like an oil-drenched torch lightened by fire. Horrified he looked down at the broken, tearful boy whose wrists he held tightly against the ground. Hisoka was now looking at his fallen katana with sad, forlorn eyes.

"You think I am…" All of a sudden the magnitude of the misunderstanding hit him. He let go of Hisoka's wrists and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him frantically. "Hisoka!" he yelled, "Hisoka, wake up. Look at me. I'm not Muraki."

From the distance Isorou looked on in satisfaction. Things had gone exactly the way he had intended. He looked over at his captive and saw the shinigami looking at the scene with horror on his face. The purple eyes were wide and trembling. The poor soul still having a hard time believing. Well, that could be helped.

"Do you see what I mean?" he sneered. "These two are in this state because of you. Although with the secretary, I'm not sure whether he is pushed over the edge or fulfilling a long suppressed desire. He did say just a moment ago that he would kill the boy if it came to you."

Tsuzuki's eyes were fixed on the scene, the orbs so wide they looked unnatural. His face was a tight mask of pain and the trembling of his body had increased so much it almost looked like he had a seizure.

I would kill anyone who hurts Tsuzuki-san. 

Could it be that…?

Hisoka let out a gut-wrenching cry and lunged for the sword one more time. Tatsumi-- caught off guard--pushed him back to the ground and bent over him, letting out a cry of his own.

Isorou drawled, "It's ironic I should say, how this image so closely resembles that of the boy's faithful night with the beautiful doctor. It seems like no matter where he goes or whom he trusts, he always ends up in the same position." He was looking intensely at Tsuzuki as he spoke, choosing his words carefully and flinging them at the man on the ground like sharp, jagged stones.

"NO…" a loud cry escaped Tsuzuki and he leaped forward in his bonds only to be caught short by them. "Hisoka," He tried again, failed, tried again, his wounds starting to bleed at an alarming rate. "HISOKAAAAA!"

The yell caught Tatsumi's attention and he looked over his shoulder at Tsuzuki. This was getting from bad to worse, he thought. He had come here to be at Tsuzuki's side and defend him against that crazy prosecutor but now he was fighting Kurosaki for a reason he didn't understand, leaving Tsuzuki alone with that monster. He couldn't see clearly what was happening over there, but he knew Tsuzuki was looking at them. Gods, Tsuzuki must be horrified seeing them like this. Tatsumi felt Hisoka move under him again, using his distraction to shift his body a bit. He reeled back and pushed the boy's shoulders down again.

"Hisokaaaaa!"

Tsuzuki's voice was desperate now. Tatsumi looked back and saw him tearing his body against the wires. 'No…I have to do something or else Tsuzuki will kill himself in his frenzy.' He decided he had wasted enough time. It was either end it now or let everything be destroyed.

He turned back to Hisoka. The boy lay on his back with a strangely serene expression on his face. It baffled him for a moment, before he felt the tip of the sword pierce through his heart. He looked in horror at the calm face, still the same even as Tatsumi's blood poured over it and stained the smooth cheeks. A look to the side revealed everything to him. The katana! Somehow, Hisoka had managed to pick it up while he had been distracted and it was now lodged deep within his chest where the boy had thrust it with the last of his strength.

"You…won't be ever …touching him… again," the boy said before closing his eyes and falling into unconsciousness.

'This is all a nightmare. It has to be.'

Tatsumi stared in shock at the blade protruding from his chest, and his hand that was smeared with blood—his own blood—and at Hisoka who lay unmoving underneath him.

Then he fell.

Through dazed, red-screened vision, Tatsumi saw a strange light engulf Tsuzuki as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Like a dome it surrounded the purple-eyed shinigami. Not that clear in the head, Tatsumi still remembered what it was: Tsuzuki's evil side breaking free. The demon in him, restrained for so long, was unleashed and soon that light would explode and expand to destroy everything in its path. Tatsumi thought about all this with a strange sense of detachment, like the distant curiosity of someone remembering a story. It was something far and beyond him that he might have cared about one time if he wasn't so numb and cold. He looked at Isorou with the same kind of indifference and saw him chanting something before he threw his hands over Tsuzuki and cast a spell. As soon as he did it the light surrounding the shinigami disappeared and his body slumped forward senseless, hanging limply from his restraints.

Tatsumi knew he wasn't dying. He was a shinigami and no matter how deadly a wound, how slow his healing, he'd eventually survive. What worried him was that in the state he was in, he was helpless against any attacks Isorou might send his way. The same way he wasn't able to do anything to protect Hisoka. Now that it seemed they had served their purpose, there was really no reason for the hell pawn to keep them around.

His fears were confirmed when a moment later Isorou turned away from Tsuzuki and started walking towards them. He turned onto his back, reaching to grasp Hisoka's hand in his own. Even if he had to go out, it still didn't mean he wouldn't do his damnest to save the boy. He hadn't promised that to Tsuzuki but it was the sort of thing between them that didn't need verbal confirmation.

He looked up into the prosecutor's face when he finally reached him. It was hard to make out the details, but he could tell that the man was at least not leering. His hand that was holding Hisoka's went further up, grabbing the boy's shirt and pulling him towards him in an attempt to cover the smaller body with his own.

Isorou's face was expressionless as he stood over them, his eyes returning Tatsumi's glare before the secretary slowly closed his eyes in acceptance. Isorou saw the hand that was holding the boy and his eyes remained on it for a while. Still, no emotion registered on the stoic face, as if the man was carved in stone. Tatsumi waited, for the searing pain, for the heat of Isorou's magic to pierce his body, twist his soul and end his immortal existence. Yet nothing happened. When he opened his eyes again he saw Isorou still looking at him.

"It's over." The prosecutor finally said.

Tatsumi tried to sit up but his wounds were too great for him to do it. Instead, he took a deep, shuddering breath and stared, his question evident in his eyes.

Isorou answered it, "He broke down. He called on the Apocalypse. And now, he belongs to Makai."

Tatsumi remained silent. Apocalypse. Tsuzuki's devastating, demonic nightmare power that was capable of wiping out an entire village was unleashed. But why was nothing happening.

Reading that question on his face too, Isorou explained, "I delayed it. It will happen, only a little while later. I needed time to get myself and my associates out of here."

Tatsumi exhaled, a word perched on his breath. "Bastard." But it was too quiet for anyone to hear. Isorou had already turned to walk away, dismissing both him and Hisoka. "Ja-ne. I'm sorry it had to end like this," he said in a mocking tone, "I must admit you _were_ a nuisance from the beginning, Tatsumi-san. Still, I think we could have been friends had we met under different circumstances, perhaps if you weren't so stubborn."

Tatsumi opened his mouth to give him a retort but only blood came out. His vision was dimming and he was loosing his hold on Hisoka. 'No,' he thought, faintly, 'this is not how it is supposed to end.' He looked at Hisoka, lying unconscious on the ground, over at Tsuzuki, equally senseless in his bonds. He himself could hardly move, his eyes drifting open and close, knowing what was about to come he gasped sharply, bringing more pain to his chest. In a minute or two they were all going to die, burned into crisps by Apocalypse's powerful blast. Their lives would lie at Tsuzuki's feet and the guilt over it would most certainly destroy him. That is, if the knowledge of belonging to Makai didn't do it first.

It was not supposed to end like this.

He heard someone calling his name. It was probably a dream, the kinds you have when you're about to die.

"Tatsumi-san!!!"

It became louder and this time, even Isorou heard it. Tatsumi turned his head and saw Watari running up the hill.

"Tatsumi-san. Hey, Tatsumi-san. Thank gods I found you."

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene in front of him. "What the h…? Tatsumi-san?"

Immediately the scientist knelt down by the secretary, gauging both his and Hisoka's condition. Looking over at the blood on Hisoka's hands and face and the bloody katana sticking out of Tatsumi's chest he bristled. "Tell me it's not what I think. How in the world…?"

Tatsumi opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a choked gurgle. Watari rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket to retrieve a small vile. "Thank goodness I finished brewing this in time. To think that it would come in handy so soon." Gently, he removed the sword and placed his hand under Tatsumi's shoulders to lift him up and pour some of the contents into his mouth.

He saw Tatsumi's eyes flash open, looking at a point beyond his head and mouthing something before his lapel was grabbed from behind and pulled him to his feet. It was Isorou of course. The prosecutor was clearly pissed as he drew the scientist close to his face. "Watari-san. What are you doing here? I don't recall inviting you to this meeting."

Watari scowled. "Invite me? Didn't realize I needed your invitation to walk in Ju-Oh-Cho's own back yard. Now let go of me." He tried to free himself from the tight grip.

"No," Isorou pulled him back, "You don't understand. It is dangerous here. You have to leave this place right now or you'd be incinerated like the rest of them."

"Incinerated? What do you mean? What is going on here?"

Isorou tightened his grip on him and said, "What's going on is that your dear friend, the demon shinigami, has called upon the destructive forces he harbors inside and they are soon to blow up the whole place and everything in it into tiny crisps and unless you get as far away from here as possible right now you'd be ending up the same way. Now was that clear enough for you?"

Watari blinked. "Tsuzuki? What have you done to Tsuzuki? And what about Tatsumi and Hisoka? Why are they injured like that? What are you planning on doing with them? Were you about to leave them here?"

Isorou started dragging Watari with him. "I don't care about them. I only care about you because you are my friend and I don't want you to lose your life over pathetic matters that could easily be avoided."

That made Watari's eyes blaze with fire. With a growl he pulled himself out of the prosecutor's grip and stood back, panting hard to get himself under control.

"What the hell are you talking about? Who gave you permission to make decisions about other people's lives? Oh, but I'm harping the same old tune, aren't I? We all know that people's lives are less than dust to you."

Isorou looked genuinely surprised at the scientist's outburst like he was caught off guard.

"But friends?" Watari continued, getting more agitated by the minute. "You're calling us friends? When will you stop living in your own make-belief world?"

He ignored the stunned look on the prosecutor's face and continued to ride on the rush of adrenaline that had prompted his daring outburst. It could have also been his inner self, finally responding to Isorou's incessant harassments by giving the man a piece of his mind.

"Us as friends, that's what you keep raving about. Let me ask you one question: on what basis exactly is this friendship founded? When did it start? Just because I didn't directly go up against you or you didn't have an opportunity to hurt me like you did the others doesn't necessarily make us buddies."

He looked away from Isorou's shocked stare and swept his eyes over Tatsumi, Hisoka and Tsuzuki.

"These people have been my friends for a long time. They have helped me, stood beside me, consoled me and done sacrifices for me, just as I've tried to do the same for them. Now look at what's become of them and ask yourself, are you truly my friend?"

Having said that Watari sat on the ground next to Tatsumi and helped him drink the medicine he'd brought with him. He put the prosecutor completely out of his mind not even lingering on the stricken look on his face or worrying about his reaction. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Tatsumi coughed and sputtered but finally was able to keep his eye open long enough to recognize Watari. The scientist's warm smile seemed to give him strength and before he knew it, his healing powers were kicking in at full force and the wounds in his body started closing. He sat up and stared at Watari in surprise.

"Welcome back," the scientist said, "I knew my formula was great but I didn't expect it to work so fast." He almost sparkled. "Oh my Enma. I guess this means I've officially surpassed my own personal record of awesomeness. I, Watari Yukata, am the greatest scientist in Meifu."

Tatsumi, still a little shaky, stared at the glowing scientist without comprehension. Then, remembering something, he turned his attention to his side where Hisoka was lying on the ground.

Watari's mood immediately sobered. He sat up and glanced at the boy. "What's wrong with him?"

Tatsumi had to swallow a few times before he could speak. "Nourian--I think the demon witch did something to his mind. He thought… I was Muraki."

Watari gasped. He reached for Hisoka right away bringing the small bottle of his magic potion close to his mouth. "I will fix that right now. And Tsuzuki is next. For the love of Enma if I have to go back to the lab and brew some more of this, I will do it." He tipped the bottle over Hisoka's lips.

"You would do none of that."

Watari shot an exasperated glance at Isorou who seemed to have finally snapped out of his trance and was now looking daggers at him. It didn't seem to affect Watari in the least as he continued to hold onto Hisoka and go ahead with his treatment.

When the evil prosecutor made a move toward them however, it was Tatsumi who intercepted him.

"Get lost. You have no more business here; you got what you wanted so leave us in peace."

"Big words from the man who was choking on his own blood only a minute ago. I won't take orders from you or anyone else here, and I won't leave unless Watari-san comes with me."

Watari growled but it was Tatsumi who showed the most intense reaction. A huge slab of gray-blue shadow, lifted from somewhere, hit the prosecutor fully in the chest, propelling him ten feet away and slamming him to the ground.

Watari gasped, as he had truly not expected that. Tatsumi stood tall, despite his still weakened state. He glared at the man in challenge and said, "Leave us alone. Watari-san does what he wants to do and so do I. And right now, what I want most is to beat the life out of low-life, well dressed reptiles who have no regards for others."

Isorou wiped a trail of blood form the corner of his mouth and smiled. "You? Beat _me_? Don't make me laugh. You must've forgotten the outcome of our first meeting. I suggest you back down while you still can or else…"

He was cut of when a cluster of lashing shadows attacked him from every direction. It only took a second for Isorou to get to his feet and make a gesture with his hand that caused them all to drop like autumn leaves. Still, despite his swiftness some of the shadows found their mark and left bloody welts on his body before they disappeared.

The man from Makai unleashed his fury then, attacking Tatsumi with the force of his unseen powers and causing the secretary to immediately fall on his knees, clutching his side and breathing hard. Isorou wasn't content to just smirk this time. With great, angry strides he walked toward the secretary his evil intent showing on his face.

It was Watari who blocked him this time, standing protectively in front of his friend.

"Step aside, Watari-san. I won't hesitate to destroy you if I need to."

"Over my dead body. You think I'll let you to hurt another one of my friends? We should have finished you off first day you touched Tsuzuki-san, you bastard son of Makai."

Isorou halted. "So you know," he said, eyes flashing dangerously, "Then you know that I won't be holding back. This is my last warning Watari-san. Step. Down."

But Watari only squared his shoulders, assuming a guard pose. With a growl Isorou waved his hands toward him and as if blown by a great wind, Watari found himself lifted in the air and slammed back down into the ground.

The wind left his lungs and he felt every bone in his body jar.

Isorou approached him slowly, anger showing darkly in his eyes. He looked down at him saying, "So, you're not my friend you say? And here I thought I could at least be kind to one of you. You shinigami…, your kind is all the same. Lazy, trouble-seeking scumbags who think they can do anything they want and get away with it. I will teach you a lesson." He raised his hand and a fireball started forming over it.

Watari looked on in dread, genuinely scared now. He looked over at Tatsumi who returned his glance with an equally helpless gaze. There was no question. No matter what they did, when it came to power they were all insects compared to this man whose demonic strength fed directly from the pits of hell. The only thing that could save them now was a miracle.

Which was exactly what Watari thought was happening when a moment later something large and flaming appeared in the sky right above Isorou's head and landed directly next to them throwing the prosecutor and his magic off balance. Isorou let out a surprised yelp, turning to see what had happened. Watari, who was as shocked as his enemy was, but at the same time relieved for having been spared Isorou's attack, raised his head and looked in the same direction. This new development wasn't comforting to his senses either.

Until he heard the cries of the phoenix.

"Suzaku," he cried out in joy, thrilled to see the phoenix and the big white tiger in their human forms standing in a circle of dying flames. For once, in a very long time, Watari felt a jolt of glee, wondering if things had finally taken a turn in their favor. He prayed that it was true, that somehow, in some way, this meant a new hope for their side and a chance for them to retaliate against the evil powers that were bent on destroying them.

In the end, it was Tsuzuki who once again had indirectly come to their rescue.

TBC

I should have posted this a long time ago but this week I was (and still partly am) busy changing computers and that took a whole chunk of my time, not to mention school projects which took the rest of it. I hope to start right away on the next chapter though. I hope you all liked this part.

Please review. I'd really appreciate it if you did. Even if you are reading this way after it was posted, it would still warm my heart to hear from you and to know that people are still reading and enjoying my story. Let's face it, reviewing brings joy to all of us, writers and readers alike. So please take part in bringing joy to other people or else you'd be like Isorou ;)


	14. Phase 7: Apocalypse—Part 2

Happy New Year every one. I've been away for too long but now for the new year, I bring you the next chapter of "The Trial." I'm so flattered by all your amazing reviews. I love my readers and that's why I stuck to this story despite my crazy busy life in the past year.

There were some questions asked in the most recent reviews that I would like to answer. **Emi-chan** wanted to know where Watari has left 003 :) Well, that's answered in this chapter. About including Touda in the story, I too am very fond of him and I wished I could find a place for him in the story but I already have too many characters to juggle and I don't know what to do with another powerful being who'd fuss over Tsuzuki ""shoves a pouting Touda away"" maybe I'll let him play in my next story.

I am completely floored by **ManderNaner**'s kind words. It's reviews like this that give you courage to carry on knowing that there are people out there who are actually enjoying it. ManderNaner asked what grade I was in. I finished my bachelor's degree in Computer Science 2 years ago and now I'm studying Game Art and Animation at a local college. I hope to get a job in the videogame industry as soon as I graduate. Writing is my passion and I do it for fun even though I still take it very seriously.

There were some reviewers that weren't happy about my take on the TatsumixTsuzuki relationship and Hisoka's role in the story. To those who say that Tatsumi and Tsuzuki are nothing more than ex-partners I suggest they read manga vol. 5 very carefully. There are multiple pages in that book in which Tatsumi is speaking to Tsuzuki in his mind, talking about his feelings for him: "However far I may be from you…I always think about you. I don't care if you notice it. Just allow me to continue…to watch you from a distance…" Taken right out of the manga.

About Hisoka I agree that as far as the majority of YnM fanfiction go, he has a smaller role in my fic. That is because I intended this story to be a Tsuzuki centric story from the beginning. I know that most of the fandom is leaning more towards Hisoka and there are legions of stories about him. I think he has gotten enough spotlight from other writers that I, an ardant Tsuzuki fan, am allowed to dedicate at least one story to my own favorite shinigami.

Once again, I apologize for the long wait (Gosh, that's getting old, isn't it) but my school schedule was crazy last semester. I even had to stay up one night all night to finish a project. There's only one more chapter left and I hope I can bring it to you as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy this chapter and continue to feed me with your excellent reviews like you always do.

**What happened so far- **Tatsumi answered Isorou's invitation and went to meet him on the appointed hill where Tsuzuki was held. Isorou trapped Tatsumi in an intricate game of words that ended in him confessing his feelings for Tsuzuki. Soon after that Hisoka, affected by Nourian's spell, arrived and attacked Tatsumi because he thought he was Muraki. Tsuzuki, witnessing his friends' battle finally lost it and called upon the Apocalypse, the deadly demonic power hidden inside of him that had the capacity to wipe away entire villages. Things went downhill from there as Watari came and tried to help his friends only to be beaten by Isorou. Just as everything seemed lost an explosion happened and from the middle of it Tsuzuki's two most trusted shikigamis descended from the sky.

The Trial – Chapter Thirteen

"Suzaku!"

Watari's cry – although faint from his lack of strength and barely audible above the commotion – was the only pronouncement that put a name on the spectacle that was happening around them. Everyone looked in wonder as the fiery red and black bird came from the sky, stepping into a circle of flames and taking on a human form as soon as her foot touched the ground. At her back, Byakko appeared, already in human form and hair flying in all directions. Together with the displays of fire and wind that showcased their powers they were an image to behold.

The flames slowly died down as the raven haired woman and the man with the swishing tail looked around to see where they had landed. For some reason – perhaps since he had called Suzaku's name - Watari was the one they both settled their eyes on. But while Suzaku's gaze stayed with the scientist, Byakko's trailed to the side where Hisoka's lifeless body laid.

"Suzaku!" Watari called again. "Thank gods you are here."

For a moment the phoenix stood confused. She took another look around and then, with stomping strides, walked up to Watari and grabbed him by the front of his lab coat. "What the hell is going on?" she inquired, "Where is Tsuzuki-san?"

Watari tried to answer but found his voice caught. Suzaku shook him hard and his eyes went wide; sliding to the side he stared past the phoenix to a point beyond. It got Suzaku's attention, her fingers releasing him and turning sharply around to be faced with the sight of Byakko already kneeling beside their unconscious master. The world around her began to spin.

A heartbeat passed in which Suzaku looked completely frozen, absorbing the terrible image and the worried looks the other Shikigami was giving her. Then she was rushing in a whirlwind towards them, collapsing on the ground beside Tsuzuki and taking his limp and injured body in her arms. She screamed. "Tsuzuki-san!!! No, by Enma, no…Tsuzuki-san. What happened? Who did this to you? Tell me who did this?"

The second question was as much directed to Tsuzuki as to the watching audience. Her flaming eyes scanned them in search of the culprit responsible for the abomination in front of her. She was breathing hard, arms protectively holding Tsuzuki pressed to her chest like a mother would her child. Byakko sat back, regarding her with darkened eyes. It wasn't clear whether the wariness in those eyes were due to his master's injuries or his concern over what Suzaku might do next. When it came to her beloved Tsuzuki-san, Suzaku was not known to be patient.

The woman's eyes finally settled on a face, the only unfamiliar one in the crowd. She took a sharp breath, releasing it with a growl as some kind of recognition – or lack there of – set in. There was a signature there, in the grey eyed man looking at them in shock. She could …feel…something from him. Evil, Makai.

"You bastard! I should have known." She yelled before she unleashed her attack on him.

To say that Isorou was surprised was an understatement; he was, after all, interrupted in the middle of a spell when the shikis had arrived. But the main reason for his astonishment was what he was seeing in front of him: two gods - the mighty protectors of South and West - fretting over his little prisoner. Somehow – from instinct perhaps – he knew that these must be Tsuzuki's guardians, even though his mind couldn't accept it. Despite having heard about Tsuzuki's extraordinary powers and his standing as the strongest member of JuOhCho it had been a shocker even the first day when he'd heard – from Tsuzuki himself– just how many of the godly beasts he controlled. That among them were two of the four gods of Gensoukai was something his mind could never have imagined.

What other secrets did this strange shinigami withhold? And how unsettling, to know that Tsuzuki had held such a great power in his hands yet hadn't even used it once despite all that Isorou had put him through.

But it was too late for contemplations now as in the next instant he was knocked over by a great force that stole his breath and filled his world with the taste of ashes and flame.

He was attacked by the great guardian spirit of the South.

Suzaku hadn't reverted to her beast form when she threw herself at him, blinded by her anger. She battered him with a force that had her divine powers behind it, mighty and unbeatable, a goddess punishing a demon for his sins. But with the way her appearance was, it looked more like an Amazon warrior beating up on an ordinary man in a suit. Isorou did try some of his own tricks to deflect the phoenix's assault, but the opponent proved to be too strong this time. Suzaku's unrestrained anger, coupled with her ungodly strength was enough to leave him sprawled and bleeding on the ground only a few minutes into the battle.

She still wasn't satisfied after that, panting and kicking the prone man in the side she yelled, "You Goddamned evil monster. Puny little Mahorath puppet. You thought you could get away with this? Treating him like this, like he's some kind of squeeze toy you can vent off all your sickness on, you disgusting pest? I'll show you what it feels like to be hurt. I'll string you up myself and burn you to a crisp slowly so you'd feel every blistering second of it."

Isorou tried to retaliate on a different ground, pulling on strings other than his powers from hell that were already rendered useless by Suzaku's constant attacks. He turned to her the first chance he got and spat, "Who gave you permission to lay a hand on one of Mahorath's first rate officials? I'll have you answer for this. A war will ensue between Gensoukai and Makai and the Golden Emperor will know--"

Suzaku shrieked, "Don't you dare mention SohRyu, you clueless lunatic. If he hears what you've done to his master… let's say there will be a war for sure, but it'll be between Gensoukai and **you**." She didn't let the shock fully register on his face before she mercilessly pounded into it.

It was then that Byakko held her from behind. "That's enough, Neesan." He said softly, "You don't want to kill him. It would bring Makai's wrath upon us, make things worse for Tsuzuki."

Suzaku stopped, but the exclamation didn't keep her from standing over the fallen man threateningly while glowering and breathing hard. Isorou was lucky the tiger had come to his rescue since Suzaku was so angry no one else would've dared touch her to save his life.

Finally the phoenix left him alone, turning all her attention back to her master. A face that moments ago had been filled with an expression of vengeful rage all of a sudden filled with sadness as she saw his prone body on the ground where Byakko had released him using his powerful claws. She walked up to him, kneeling down and lifting his lifeless body into her arms so that his head would rest in her lap. Slowly her hands combed through the unruly, wet hair and she started speaking to him as if they were the only ones there.

"Why didn't you call us, you baka?" she said in a strained voice, "How many times do we have to tell you we are there for you? That we are ready to put our lives in line for you? **We** are the ones bound to protect you not the other way around. When will you get that into your thick scull?"

She dropped her head, her voice going down to a mere whisper after that.

"I am so sorry I came late. I should have known something was wrong. I should have come here right away instead of listening to that baka tiger and going to Chijou instead. I failed you once again Tsuzuki-san, I failed you in so many ways. I am sorry…"

A touch on her shoulder brought her back to where she was and she looked up to see Byakko. "Neesan," he said, "I think the best way to find out what happened is to ask them." He pointed at the three shinigamis who where in different positions on the ground, two of them silently staring at her.

Suzaku nodded and looked at Tatsumi, since the other two currently looked occupied (Watari having resumed the task of feeding Hisoka his potion.) She said, "Tatsumi-san, please explain to us what happened. Be aware that we already know about the deal between Enma and Mahorath although we know nothing about the details."

Tatsumi lowered his head. He had to take a few deep breaths to clear his throat; Isorou's invisible blows to his lungs had done him in pretty bad this time. At last he raised his head and moved to sit in a more dignified position. He would have stood had he been confident in the strength of his legs, but it was too much of an optimistic endeavor for now.

A sideway glance at Watari and Hisoka was his only preamble before he started telling the shikigamis the story of what had happened in the past week.

Half way through, Watari took over. Tatsumi had been away from the centre of the events for most of it and while he was the one standing guard in front of the Earl's mansion, it had been the scientist who had been up close and personal with most of the trial. Tatsumi's heartbeat quickened in parts as he listened to what had happened while he had been away, about Isorou's rough handling of Tsuzuki and Hisoka, his annoying habit of harassing Watari by demanding his friendship, the way he and his bipolar companion had spread fear and nightmares through JuOhCho, turning life into a living hell for all occupants alongside their convict. He was as surprised as the other two listeners when he heard about Isorou's past, the fact that he used to be a shinigami himself and that, in Watari's opinion, his actions were more a payback for what he had suffered for rather than following the orders of either of the two deities.

When Watari finally fell silent Tatsumi felt like he had aged a few additional centuries. So much had happened and he hadn't been there to protect his friends, especially the one most precious to him. He looked over at Tsuzuki, sleeping fitfully in Suzaku's lap, and knew – should both of them survive this experience - he would never be able look at him the same way again and proclaim his role as his protector.

Even if they both survived, something would be lost, something even more important than the partnership he had lost decades ago. Now Tsuzuki would see in him neither as the lover nor the guardian.

He would be nobody to him.

Hisoka come around rather violently. Watari had to hold him down before he could leap up and head butt him in the chin. He held the gasping boy tight, trying to calm him as he took lungfuls of air and looked around wildly. Tatsumi was at his side right away, momentarily setting aside his turbulent thoughts in favor of helping the injured boy.

Fianlly Hisoka settled down, his emerald eyes moving from Watari to Tatsumi and then to Byakko who stood a few feet away.

"Wh…what happened?" he asked.

Watari carefully swept a few strands of hair away from the boy's eyes and smiled.

"Welcome back, Bon. You got us kind of worried there."

Hisoka made an attempt to sit up and this time Watari allowed him. The youngest shinigami continued looking around, his eyes lingering on Byakko and then on Suzaku who was still on the ground nursing an unconscious Tsuzuki next to a badly beaten and equally unconscious Isorou. He put a hand to his forehead and sighed.

"Ahh, I see. Tsuzuki finally summoned his shikis."

"Actually, no," Byakko replied, fidgeting a bit, "We, sort of, came here on our own, after Tsuzuki-san cut us off and we weren't quite sure what was going on," he looked at his companion, "Suzaku neesan even went as far as confronting SohRyu about it. She wasn't aware that he already knew about the whole trial deal."

Suzaku whispered things under her breath too quiet for anyone to hear, but Byakko could guess what the colorful words were. Still, he wasn't as angry with the water dragon as his friend was, knowing that SohRyu himself must have felt trapped between a rock and a hard place when Enma and Mahorath had come to him.

Hisoka next turned to Tatsumi, "Does this mean Tsuzuki is free now?" he asked expectantly.

Tatsumi almost felt guilty not giving those hopefully shining eyes the answer they craved. Faintly, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry Kurosaki-kun. Tsuzuki summoned an Apocalypse, and that could mean the condemnation of his soul."

Hisoka kept staring, and when he didn't get the explanation he so obviously expected he looked around at the rest of them.

"What's an Apocalypse?" he asked.

Watari threw up his shoulders and shook his head, indicating having no clue.

"What's an Apocalypse?" He turned to the shikigamis only to realize they were avoiding his eyes. Knowing that fact made him even more worried. "What's an Apocalypse?" He raised his voice this time.

"Kurosaki-kun, do you remember that dream you saw of Tsuzuki's past?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you remember how Tsuzuki-san wiped out an entire village when he was seventeen?"

Hisoka's face became pale as a ghost's. He looked up at Tatsumi with wide eyes. "Are you saying…? Oh my God, no."

Tatsumi slowly shook his head yes, closing his eyes as if in defeat.

Hisoka looked to the side. "But what…why isn't everything destroyed?"

"Isorou delayed it. He was planning to get himself and his minions out before it happened."

"Well that sucker isn't going anywhere now." Suzaku growled from where she sat on the ground, clutching Tsuzuki's body tighter to her breast and sending a look worth ten thousand daggers to where Isorou's unmoving body lay.

Hisoka turned his face back to Tatsumi. "So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. At least if Tsuzuki was conscious we could have asked him to somehow stop it, if that were at all possible." Tatsumi replied.

All of them looked over at Tsuzuki.

"Is there really nothing we can do?" Watari checked out the empty vile he held in his hand. "I can always go back and brew some more…"

"We have no time for that. Besides, I don't think he has the kind of coma you can fix with that drug." Tatsumi said.

"What? Well thank you very much for the brownies, Mr. Know-it-all. Did you forget it was that same drug that saved you from death and brought the kid back to life? You still don't have any faith in my science do you?" Watari countered.

Tatsumi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Watari-san, I really don't think this is the right time for--"

"Maybe I can help."

Everyone turned to look at Hisoka, which made the boy blush.

"Kurosaki-kun, what do you mean?"

"My empathy might help. I've already been inside Tsuzuki's head a few times. Maybe I can reach him while he's unconscious and bring him back somehow."

Tatsumi looked at Watari. The scientist shrugged in reply, "I don't see why not, as long as there is no harm coming to Bon."

Tatsumi turned to Hisoka. "You heard that, Kurosaki-kun. Make sure you won't get hurt doing this."

Taking that as the confirmation he so desperately sought, Hisoka sat up.

Getting to his shaky feet was a different matter, a feat he wasn't able to achieve without using Watari's shoulder as a crutch. He walked slowly toward Tsuzuki. It seemed a bit unreal. After not being able to get close to him for so long, yet knowing he was out here just beyond reach, now walking so freely towards the man he cared so much for was like coming home. He knelt beside Suzaku and slowly allowed her to transfer some of Tsuzuki's weight onto his arms. He looked down at the face, so innocent and softened in his sleep. Although his own mind was still fuzzy and weak from his recent experience he felt calm as he brushed his palm over Tsuzuki's smooth features. This was not a cumbersome task, this was like slipping into a familiar warm bed, going to a friend's place and hanging out while eating cookies and milk and watching TV. This was something he wanted to do, and not just to help Tsuzuki.

Hisoka adjusted his position on the ground. His right arm was holding Tsuzuki's upper body, assisting Suzaku – who clearly showed no desire to leave her master entirely in someone else's care, even Hisoka's – while his left hand was placed over Tsuzuki's heart, splayed there on the purple eyed shinigami's chest. He closed his eyes with an involuntary sigh and plunged in.

Dark. It was the first thing he thought when he blinked his clairvoyant eyes in the completely pitch black backdrop. He blinked a few more times; trying to determine if there was anywhere he could go. Any hints as to where Tsuzuki's subconscious might be hiding.

He heard a soft sound coming from somewhere. He knew he had to follow it but the area around him was so dark he was afraid he might step into an abyss. Trying to feel his way toward where the noise was coming from he soon realized there was absolutely nothing there except level ground. Whatever the torments of the trial had done to Tsuzuki, they'd also rendered his mind into a featureless landscape with nothing hopeful or depressing to register. His consciousness was just a big endless void.

Unaware of how far he had walked, Hisoka suddenly found himself in a grassy field. Flocks of fireflies were dancing all around him. He could hear the sound clearly now, wisps of a children's rhyme. Carefully he walked through the thick grass and past the fluttering fireflies until he reached a clearing in the middle of the field. There was a small lake bordering it with clear, reflective water. A distance away from its shore a paper lamp was placed on the ground with more fireflies dancing around it. Hugging his knees on the ground sitting next to it was a dark haired, glittery eyed child.

It was a boy, about the age of ten or so as Hisoka discovered when getting closer. He was wearing a green shirt and dark blue shorts, his profile towards him partially blocked by the lamp so that Hisoka couldn't see it clearly. He was humming the tune and Hisoka could see him rocking back and forth to the sound of his own singing.

_Fireflies, fireflies_

_Dancing gently in the light_

_If you catch a glowing one_

_You will make it through the night_

Hisoka stood over the boy's back staring down at him. There was no question in his mind who this boy was. The only thing that bewildered him was why Tsuzuki had locked himself up like this, in the form of a ten year old, in his subconscious mind.

The child lifted his head looking at him. His face split into a smile. "Oh, hi Hisoka. How did you get here?"

Hisoka actually took a step back. It was too weird for this child to know him while he had never seen or talked to him before. He had to remind himself that this was in reality Tsuzuki with the same knowledge and memories as the twenty six year old man. But it still seemed strange to be talking to this younger version of him accepting that it was in fact his old Tsuzuki.

The young Tsuzuki stood up facing him. He stretched out his hand and- with his smile firmly in place- held something out to him. "I found it in the field," he said. Hisoka saw a tiny purple flower with looping petals held between the child's fingers. He took it in his hand and looked at it in puzzlement. It too must have been a part of Tsuzuki's imagination because he had never seen a flower like that before.

"It's a Demon Weed. It grows in the shadows and only people with demon blood can find it. It will bring you luck." Tsuzuki said.

Hisoka looked up sharply. The boy was still smiling, but he had already sat back down.

"Tsuzuki, may I talk to you for a second…"

"I know what you're gonna say. I did the bad thing again." His voice was tiny and childish, and he was hugging his knees tightly while hiding his face in his arms. it made Hisoka wince.

"Actually, that's not--"

"I didn't want to do it. Like last time…I don't know how it happened. Now I've ruined everything, and I'm scared, I'm so scared."

His voice turned to a whimper at the end and for a moment, he almost sounded like the old Tsuzuki. Hisoka didn't know what to do so he simply walked around and sat down next to the boy.

"You know," he started, "you shouldn't think like that. We all do stupid things, right? When I was your age… I mean…your age like you are right now, my father used to beat me when I told him about what I saw in other people's minds. He would lock me up in the basement and not let me out before I promised not to ever tell him such lies again. I always promised, not because I thought he was right or what I had said were lies, but because by the time he came down to get me I was already so weak and tired from hunger and being left alone that I'd say anything to make him let me out. Yet I'd still do it the next time, even though I knew about the consequences. I just couldn't help it because I couldn't control my powers." He gave him back his flower.

Tsuzuki twirled it between his fingers, seemingly deep in thought. He said, "I thought it was gone after the first time. Now I see it's always been somewhere inside me, like a burst of energy ready to explode when I told it to. I don't remember telling it this time. But it's not like I can't control it at all."

Hisoka stared at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"It's this thing I can do. I mean, don't get me wrong, I can't stop it or anything like that once it's started. But when the time comes I sort of have a choice to spread it out or call it in. It is like I can explode and get all the dark and ugly stuff out of me or suck them in from the outside and make them collide within me. "

His words didn't make sense. Little as he knew about Tsuzuki's powers Hisoka could only guess that the young boy was talking about the different kinds of destruction he could bring about with his control over the dark forces.

"Um, Tsuzuki, do you think you can come back? I mean…to us, to Meifu where we all are?"

Tsuzuki looked up, "Ano, you mean wake up?"

Hisoka nodded.

"I don't know," the boy said, dragging the flower at his feet and drawing imaginary pictures on the ground, "I kind of like it here. It's too cold and painful in Meifu. Maybe I'll stay here a little longer, until the end of the trial."

Hisoka's eyes clouded over with grief. "But the trial is over, Tsuzuki. Suzaku beat Isorou and released you. You just have to leave this place and come back."

Tsuzuki blinked. "Really? Suzaku neesan is there? She's so nice. But how did she hear about it?"

"We don't know. She said she suspected something was wrong so she went to search for you. Byakko came with her too." Hisoka said.

"Hm, then everything should be fine. I guess I can come back. Later though. When I've rested a bit," he peered at Hisoka from where he rested his head on his knees, "I'm really tired, you know."

Hisoka shook his head in agreement. He didn't feel like pushing him. After all, Tsuzuki looked genuinely happy hiding here. But then, there was the matter of Apocalypse.

"You know, Tsuzuki. There's one more thing though…about the Apocalypse. If you don't come back, Meifu will go up in flames because of the dark thing you called."

Tsuzuki frowned a little at that before immediately brightening up, remembering something. "Oh, I see. Don't worry about that, Hisoka. I called it in. There won't be much damage."

Again, Hisoka was confused. He wanted to ask Tsuzuki again when all of a sudden the boy threw his arms around him and hid his face in his neck.

"I'm so happy you came, Hisoka. I didn't think you would."

Hisoka froze. He could feel the affection and need oozing out of the other boy like a tangible thing and his body was paralyzed to react to it. He did the simplest thing that came to his mind, putting his arms around the other boy though with much hesitation.

"Last time, you didn't come." Tsuzuki mumbled against his shirt, "It was Hijiri who came for me. I liked Hijiri a lot, but somewhere inside, I'd wished it were you. Then again I knew I couldn't make you like me like he did. Even though I still wished it I knew it didn't work that way."

Hisoka's heart trembled. "But I like you." He voiced out loud. 'Love you, need you, adore you, can't live my days without you.' But he didn't say any of those.

The boy looked up, smiling with the light from the lamp dancing in his damp, purple eyes. "Arigato, soka-chan. I like you very much too." He hugged him tighter and snuggled his head into Hisoka's neck. "Like you, like you very much," he said.

Hisoka was ramrod straight and looking ahead, a strange feeling settling over him. A voice inside screamed at him to tell the other how much he meant to him and how silly this all was. To tell him that Tsuzuki was more to him than he could ever imagine. That he had given him a new life, a new meaning for which to live for. That he couldn't have wished for anything better than being with him all the time and that he would have gladly followed him into afterlife had he fallen to Saagatanas or Touda's fire in Kyoto.

But all he did was to sit there and look at the fireflies as they hopped over the surface of the lake.

He didn't know how it happened but the next thing he saw was Watari's concerned face blinking above him. He blinked back to get his vision cleared just as he realized he was back with his friends once again.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you alright, Bon?" Watari asked.

He nodded yes, even though his mind was still far away.

Tatsumi hovered close by, torn between his concern over the boy and his need for answers. Watari seemed in much the same condition only he hid it better. Not that either of them could hide anything from an empath. With a sigh Hisoka looked up and decided to put them out of their miseries.

"Yes, I saw him."

Tatsumi immediately came forward. "And? How is he doing? Is he going to wake up any time soon?" he asked impatiently.

"Not soon, but eventually. He's very tired. And--he feels guilty over the whole Apocalypse thing."

"But--if he doesn't wake up, how is he going to stop it?" Watari asked.

Hisoka looked at him tiredly. "He said there is no way for him to stop it now. Only that we shouldn't worry because the thing was initiated in a special way. I didn't understand what he exactly meant by it but it had something to do with calling it to himself instead of out of himself."

Tatsumi's twitched, his face turning almost imperceptively pale. Hisoka picked it up quickly through his empathy and looked at him. "Tatsumi-san, you know something about this?"

"I think I understand what you are talking about." Tatsumi replied.

"What? What? Fill us in please," said Watari.

Tatsumi breathed calmly, but his hand was slightly shaking when he reached up to adjust his glasses. "There are two ways to initiate the Apocalypse: to release it from within or to call it in from without. Only the most prominent demons of the underworld can perform such a task. And only those in the highest ranks of the dark power can perform both."

He fell silent but kept staring straight ahead. Hisoka and Watari on the other hand couldn't help but to steal glances towards Tsuzuki.

"But he said it is ok. Why did he say it was ok now that he's called it from outside?" Hisoka asked.

Tatsumi seemed to not have heard him. Watari reached over and pulled on his sleeve. "Hey, Tatsumi-san. What's the difference between the two? What does it matter if he calls the damn thing to him or out of him?"

Tatsumi shook his head. "The difference is in where it hits worst. If it's an explosion the greatest damage is on the periphery of the blast. It will wipe away everything as it spreads, getting more and more destructive until its energy runs out. If it's an implosion however, it will rush towards a center. It will still destroy things as it moves, but not as greatly, and the core of its destruction would be that center."

Hisoka and Watari went mute, Tatsumi's explanation finally revealing to them the reason for his carefully camouflaged distress. Slowly Hisoka stood up and walked over to Tsuzuki, who had been dragged by Suzaku a distance away from them where the mother bird could resume tending to him. He sat down next to them, Suzaku barely reacting.

"Suzaku-san, how is he?"

"A little better. I don't know what you did but it definitely helped. He's a bit calmer now."

"Um, Suzaku-san, you know that the--"

"I heard. It's gonna hit here."

Watari and Tatsumi joined them. So did Byakko.

"And? What are you going to do?" Hisoka asked.

Suzaku ran a hand through her master's hair. "I'm going to protect him."

Byakko sat were he was kneeling on the other side of Tsuzuki and put a hand over Suzaku's. She looked up, showing a smile for the first time since her arrival. Their eyes connected and some kind of communication passed between them. A promise of kinds, then both of them turned their faces to the rest of the crowd.

"You are staying here." Watari said. It wasn't a question, just an echo of what he had read in those beastly, bright eyes.

"So am I."

Hisoka added his hand to the pile on top of Tsuzuki's chest. His eyes were resolute, the green determination in them leaving no room for argument.

Still Tatsumi stepped in. "Watari-san, take Kurosaki-kun with you and return to the office. Tell everyone to stay inside and by no means approach this place."

"But Tatsumi-san…" Watari argued.

"Do it."

"NO!!!" Hisoka yelled. It took everyone by surprise, as did the rest of his words. "I will not be left behind again. I won't let you try to protect me. I should be right here beside him. You told me so yourself, remember? In front of the Earl's castle. You said I was the best decision you made regarding Tsuzuki and that I should be there for him all the time. Well now is that time. Why won't you let me fulfill that promise?"

Tatsumi laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Because you will die."

"So will Tsuzuki, so what's the point?"

There was no answer to that. Watari sat back, looking lost. Tatsumi looked at Suzaku.

"Neesan, is there anything you can do?"

"I'll be transforming very soon. I will shield him with my wings."

"Me too. I'll create a wind barrier around him to protect him from the worst of it. It might lessen the damage." Byakko put in.

"Will it be enough to protect Hisoka too?" Tatsumi asked.

"It will protect anyone who stays in the cover of my body. How well though is something I don't know?" she replied.

"But Suzaku-san, what about you?" Asked Hisoka.

She looked at him warmly. "Don't worry about us," she squeezed Byakko's hand and they both smiled. "We've seen worse."

"We still need to warn the others." Tatsumi pondered.

"Leave that to me." Watari said. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. A second later a small, fluttery thing appeared over their heads and came down to perch on Watari's shoulder ruffling its tiny feathers. Watari gave it a friendly nudge and it tilted its head, hooting.

The scientist whispered something in the bird's ear. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small notebook and a pencil. After jotting down some notes he ripped the page and held the note to the little owl who took it in its beak. Soon after, the bird known as 003 was flying towards JuOhCho taking Watari's message to the people there.

That done, Watari settled down again, leaning against one of the polls and putting his arms behind his head. Tatsumi stared at him for a while before turning his head away. He didn't need to ask; it was obvious Watari was staying too.

A sound from behind caught their attention. Isorou was coming around. Suzaku growled low in her throat and Byakko squeezed her hand in a warning plea. Watari peered at him suspiciously. Tatsumi's hands turned to fists and Hisoka leaned forward to hug Tsuzuki's body closer to his chest.

Tatsumi stood up and walked over to the still dazed and awakening man. Holding his anger tightly in check he looked down at him. "I want you to stop the Apocalypse." He said.

Isorou was still coming around. But he did look up into the blue, unforgiving eyes. His answer was a snort as he sat up, grabbing his bruised ribs as if to staunch the pain. There was blood on his mouth that he wiped away with his sleeve.

"Can't do that," he said wryly, "Only Mahorath and Enma have such powers."

"Bullshit, you delayed it. You must be able to stop it." Tatsumi barked.

"Mahorath gave me the power to do that. But that's as far as I can go."

"You lie. If you're not good for that then I don't see a reason why we should keep you around."

"You can do whatever you want but it won't change a thing. It is all in Mahorath's hands now. Only he has the power to decide what will happen next."

"We won't let you get away," yelled Hisoka from were he sat, "You will die along with us."

The gray eyes sparked as they turned to him. "That too would be Mahorath's decision. And your friend by the way belongs to him now." He gestured with his chin at Tsuzuki, which caused Hisoka to unconsciously hug him tighter.

He felt Tsuzuki stir then. Looking down, he wondered if Tsuzuki was waking up. He reached over and wiped the sweat from the other's forehead, brushing his cheek. Suzaku came alert and, supporting more of Tsuzuki's weight, started calling to him, "Tsuzuki, Tsuzuki. Are you awake?"

Tsuzuki mumbled something but he didn't seem to have the strength to open his eyes. Byakko leaned close, so did Watari, and Tatsumi returned to the circle, forgetting momentarily about Isorou.

Bending over Hisoka's shoulder, Tatsumi looked at the prone man with worried eyes and said in a hushed voice. "Is he really coming around?"

Hisoka didn't answer. The boy looked troubled somehow, which was strange considering Tsuzuki was finally waking up.

"What's wrong, Hisoka?" Watari asked, seeing the worried, almost frightened look on the boy's face.

"I don't understand," Hisoka said, "He's waking up, but it's like something is pulling him away. Like his soul is being dragged by some kind of dark power."

"Mahorath," Isorou interjected, his voice reaching them from outside their circle, "It's about time."

Tatsumi looked back sharply, his eyes piercingly looking at the prosecutor who was slowly getting to his feet. The man stared back, confident and unflinching. And soon they were standing across from each other once again, facing one another with flaming looks passing between them, two incredibly powerful beings locked in a never ending circle of hatred and rage.

Tatsumi opened his mouth to say something but his voice turned into a gasp as the world around him plunged into darkness. Tatsumi whipped around, searching for the rest of the group and saw them huddled on the ground looking equally frightened and confused. It was as if they had fallen into a pit, or slipped into an underground tunnel trough an invisible hole, the environment spinning and rushing around them at an incredible speed. The earth started to shake and Tatsumi had to go down on one knee to prevent falling on his face. Was it the Apocalypse? From the few glimpses he had had of the phenomenon he doubted it. Apocalypse was a powerful force that swept everything on its way. This was more like a nightmare come true; as if their reality was sucked into a black hole and was pulled towards a center of gods knew what.

Finally the movement stopped and the earth calmed down by degrees. The shinigamis looked around. It was still dark all around them but through the coils of the shadows one could see they had finally arrived someplace. There was a faint light coming from somewhere they couldn't see, lighting up the space fractionally. It was still hard to adjust their eyes to the change in brightness to tell exactly where they had landed but it was obvious they were no longer outside. Their surroundings, little of it that they could see, seemed like the interior of a large room with a high ceiling and no doors or windows to the outside.

A throne room, Tatsumi thought as he peered through the darkness and saw the meager light bounce off the polished surfaces of ornamented furniture, banisters and dragon statues with round, wild eyes. They were inside a traditional Chinese throne room judging by the platform he could identify at one end of the large place with a frame for an entrance and curtains that surrounded a decorated divan, large enough for four men to sit comfortably on even though it clearly was made for one person. As time passed Tatsumi noticed he was seeing gradually more and more of their surrounding. Now he could see the decorations on the walls, the glossy floor and the pillars that were holding the high, richly painted ceiling over their heads and had golden dragons curled around them. Almost everything in the room was in some shade of red, except the statues and giant vases that were made of gold. It was getting brighter by fractions Tatsumi noticed, not yet lit up, but enough for naked eyes to identify more shapes in their environment.

The silence that had befallen the group was a sharp contrast to the mayhem that had went on before. Everyone was too stunned by the changes to do anything but to stare around frantically. Hisoka looked at Suzaku's face across from his and saw that the phoenix was trying to keep calm. His empathy however sensed the turmoil that was the result of confusion and shock rolling through her body and a fierce protectiveness that was for her master. It was magnified 4 times more by the worried vibes coming from the other occupants of the room, all resonating with one thought in mind: the question of what was happening around them. Only Isorou's vibe was calm. He was silent like the rest of them but his silence extended into his heart and soul.

Isorou was the only one who knew what was going on.

Hisoka wanted to look at him but couldn't see him with Watari and Tatsumi in the way. It didn't matter a moment later when they all heard a loud noise coming from the throne side of the room and their heads turned that way. There was a bright light with a center of darkness growing there. A figure took shape from within and slowly stepped out. It looked like a man, twelve feet tall and dressed in full Samurai amour standing in the center of the red glow. They couldn't see his face covered as it was by the shadow of a horned helmet.

It was a frightening sight, the amour and the sheer size of the creature captivating them in total shock. It stood imposingly on the steps leading to the platform looking over them like a shogun would his subordinates. The metal plates welded into his breastplate reflected the mysterious red light. Then they saw phantom shapes appearing from behind him, robed creatures with equally hidden faces and bony hands who came forward to flank him on either side, the same ghostly underlings that had served Isorou throughout the trial.

For the span of a few minutes no one made any sound, the tall creature doing his observation in silence while the exhausted, bewildered audience watched him in awe. Then someone stepped forward, walking out of the cluster of bodies and toward the magnificent center of attention. He came to a stop in front of it and bowed at the waist in a gesture of respect and servitude.

"We are honored to be in your presence, Lord Mahorath-sama." Isorou's voice echoes under the tall ceiling.

Hisoka felt his heart freeze. So this was Lord Mahorath, the Lord of the underworld and the ruler of hell. For many millennia this dark and dangerous deity had been in charge of punishing the evil and unfortunate souls who had passed through the gates of hell after their fates were decided in the offices of JuOhCho.

He had to admit the creature looked the part.

Mahorath didn't make a move. Didn't even acknowledge Isorou's curtsy. A booming voice came from all around them a second later, ringing deep and commanding in their ears.

_Tsuzuki Asato, rise to your new master and god._

It was one of the scariest things Hisoka had heard in his life. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where it was coming from. It seemed like it was echoing in their heads instead of in the room, having nothing to do with the creature that was standing stonily on the stairs. He could tell the others were in the same state, their waves erratic and all over the place. Even though they were beings who had all seen more than their share of frightening things in their lives, it was obvious that none of it had compared to meeting the ruler of hell in person.

It was only a moment before Hisoka felt a movement at his side. His eyes slid down to look at Tsuzuki's face, still lying in his arms. Tsuzuki's eyes were open, looking straight up and through Hisoka. He was astonishingly pale and beautiful, like a porcelain doll. He moved and it took Hisoka by surprise to see him sit up and after a few tries, stand up at last.

_Come to me, Tsuzuki Asato. Come to the true origin of your soul and I will purge you of all impurities. _

'No'

The thought passed Hisoka's mind just as Tsuzuki was about to take a step forward to whatever that invitation entailed. His hand latched onto Tsuzuki's pant leg, preventing him from walking further. He couldn't tell exactly why but he had a strong urge not to let him get anywhere near that vision of horror.

Tsuzuki stopped. Hisoka was too distressed to say anything, only clutching the fabric in his hands tightly while the unvoiced screams rang through his head. No sound came from any of the other observers. They all seemed to have lost their voices the same way Hisoka had.

Tsuzuki was still for a second, not doing anything but to look ahead. Then slowly he turned and there it was, that familiar smile Hisoka remembered so well showing on his face. He looked down at him and said, "It's ok, 'soka-chan. You can let go now. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

Hisoka was trying his best not to shake too badly, and to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat so he could get some words out. But it seemed like his vocal cords were in a tangle. Tsuzuki looked so much like his own self now. In this weird dimension he was whole, no torn clothes or disarrayed hair and there was not even a speck of blood on him. He looked gorgeous, as if Mahorath had made sure his prize was in perfect condition at the time it was delivered to him.

Tsuzuki knelt beside him and stroked his hair. His smile and kindness were radiating from him in waves and he looked at Hisoka in that cute, gentle way that always broke down all of the boy's defenses. It was that look that destroyed everything Hisoka had achieved in his efforts to find his voice back again and rendered him mute.

"I'm sorry, Hisoka. I didn't mean to leave without saying goodbye." Tsuzuki said softly. He leaned forward, brushing his lips over Hisoka's forehead in a chaste kiss. Then lower, to his lips, not quite touching but very close.

"I wish you all the best," he whispered against them, "Always remember that I loved you." And then he closed the gap with a kiss. So soft and loving it stole Hisoka's breath away to the same place his voice had gone.

He didn't remember seeing much of the rest. He remembered hearing it though but it was like being in one of his blurry dreams. He heard Tsuzuki rise and walk to the rest of the group. Heard him talk to Watari and thank him for happy times. Heard his words to Tatsumi about how he always looked up to him and still regretted their break up and how he had always held a special place in his heart for the older, protective man. He heard him talk to his shikigamis, thanking them for all they'd done for him and telling them to give his regards to the rest of the 12 guardians. Heard Suzaku's protests, the commotion of her hysterical attempt to do something Hisoka couldn't see. And Tsuzuki's quiet apologies to her and to all of them.

Then footsteps. Tsuzuki was coming back to where he was kneeling. He wouldn't stop, Hisoka knew. He'd already said his goodbyes to him. And that thing, that enormous daunting thing standing over there wouldn't probably like it if Tsuzuki took too long. There was only that much time a god would allow a subordinate to waste saying farewell to a bunch of miserable shinigamis.

Tsuzuki walked on. But his pace faltered as he passed Hisoka. Hisoka's heart made a leap, and he looked up…

"I can't be with you anymore, Hisoka." Tsuzuki's voice sounded strangled. He wasn't looking at him.

Hisoka felt heat rise to his face. His voice, the one he had lost since appearing in this place came back to him in a rush of inhaled air, and he breathed out one word, "Tsuzuki…"

"I can't…" Tsuzuki shook his head rapidly. He then turned and Hisoka saw his eyes were lined with tears.

"He's waiting, Hisoka. I have to go."

Hisoka didn't think. Didn't bother fighting for control. He just leaped to his feet and ran the space between them throwing his arms around his partner. He pushed his face into Tsuzuki's chest, his own tears welling up to spill over flushed cheeks. The words came then.

"Why Tsuzuki? Why, why? I thought you wanted to be with us. I thought you said you'd never leave me alone."

Tsuzuki was a statue for a second before putting his arms around the boy's slender frame and pressing him closer to his body. He didn't say anything though and that made Hisoka even more frantic.

"That night, when I had the bad dream and you came to me. You don't remember, do you? That night you promised to never leave me alone. You said you'd always be there for me. Then why…?" the tears choked him and he had to let go of his death grip n Tsuzuki to rub his face. He was frustrated and angry beyond words.

Tsuzuki cupped his cheek in a warm hand and tilted his face up, close to his own again. It was so maddening, to be finally so close to him and knowing that it was farewell.

"Hisoka, I remember that night. I know what you're saying and I'm sorry I failed you. I should have known better. A creature like me does not deserve you."

"That--no--. You--aren't -- how can you--even think -- Tsuzuki, please--" He couldn't speak right. Or maybe it was the constant struggle to say anything through the tears and the emotions that kept pressing on his throat.

Tsuzuki closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against his like Hisoka had done with him in Kyoto. He whispered, "Hisoka, please understand. I'm a demon, and I have to go. It was my fault to get you involved in the first place, my fault I couldn't keep away from you. I caused you pain; I won't anymore."

Hisoka's only reply was a sob.

He was too tired to object when Tsuzuki framed his face in his hands and looked at him affectionately. The sad amethyst eyes were wet, pouring silent rivers over the smooth cheeks. For some reason it reminded Hisoka of how Tatsumi always said it was the saddest thing to see Tsuzuki cry. He thought he agreed with him now.

"Listen Hisoka. I lost the battle. I am His now. And if I don't go soon He might hurt you all. Please understand it is for the best. I'll visit you sometime in Meifu, when this is all over."

He kissed him on the forehead again, but Hisoka was too numb to feel it. When Tsuzuki finally let him go he slumped to the ground. He didn't even sense Tatsumi (or was it Watari?) come to stand beside him. To help him up perhaps. His eyes were fixated on Tsuzuki's back, on the lean tall body in that familiar suit and the hesitant gait as the man walked closer to that center of power.

The red light began to glow brighter behind the powerful deity. Tsuzuki stood a few feet away and raised his head. Tendrils of darkness extended from the creature to wrap themselves around the ex-shinigami. They encircled him, coiling around Tsuzuki's body like a lover's embrace made of wisps of smoke. Tsuzuki remained still though he did let out a surprised gasp at the sudden cold touch. The red glow intensified and in its stark brightness the frightening features of the god of hell became sharply visible. He was standing still, but the dark power that exuded from him to devour the lone man in front of him was as apparent to everyone as were the shadowy branches rising from his body. Hisoka felt the man beside him withdraw in half realized fear and felt a desire in himself to do the same.

Tsuzuki started walking again, and the daunting voice rose around them.

_You are now free of all the impurities that clung to your lowly body, Asato. You are purged of all that is humble and elated to the station of Makai's prince. Let me be the first to welcome you to your new life, my beautiful celestial child._

Tsuzuki bowed his head and as if a big curtain was drawn, huge darkness came at him from both sides and swallowed him from their eyes.

_You are mine now. My Asato, my child of darkness. You will rise to great heights in my care, and will become truly worthy of your title as a Descendant of Darkness. The wheels of your destiny have finally begun to turn and you have no choice but to accept it. _

TBC

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I hope you all liked this chapter. I know it took me a bit longer to post this but I was very busy ""sorry"" As I said, only one more chapter is left. Please let me know what you thought. Your words of encouragement and wisdom will serve to make me a better writer (Wow, that almost sounded like a proverb.) Well to say it in simpler words, I'm basically asking you to please review ;)


	15. Phase 7: Apocalypse—Part 3

I had every intention to post this chapter without having another long gap between it and the previous one. As it turned out it didn't happen. I was very busy and this chapter was very hard.

First of all, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. From the reviews I gathered that most of you didn't like the ending to that chapter, which is understandable by the way things turned out. One thing I noticed however was that many for some reason thought that that was the end of the story all together even though I had said, both at the beginning and the end of the chapter, that there was another part coming up. So to everyone who hated the previous chapter and how it ended, I say don't worry. There's more to the story as you can see and I hope you like it.

**What happened so far: **After Suzaku manages to knock Isorou senseless Hisoka plunges into Tsuzuki's consciousness to ask him to wake up and stop the emerging Apocalypse. He learns that Tsuzuki has conjured Apocalypse in a special way that puts Tsuzuki himself at the center of the disaster to keep others from harm. Just as the shinigami and the guardian beasts are trying to figure out a way to protect each other they are magically transported to another dimension where Mahorath, the lord of hell himself, declares the trial's outcome to his favor and claims Tsuzuki as his own. Tsuzuki says goodbye to everyone and is then taken away to become part of Makai.

...o...

The Trial – Chapter Fourteen

_Goodbye Tatsumi-san. You were always my special friend._

He sometimes had these bad dreams. Dreams that hurt. He rarely talked about them to anyone, except maybe Watari who had caught him lounging in his dark office once or twice after work hours. It had been a show of weakness.

_I always looked up to you. You may not have noticed it but you have been my idol for a very long time. You were always so strong, so collected. You thought we made fun of you behind your back…well sometimes we did, very few times. But that didn't keep me from seeing you as my hero._

Most of those dreams had to do with Tsuzuki. Trust Tsuzuki to always be the one who brought him down to a sweating, quaking shell of himself. He barely ever cared about his own safety. He was a Kagetsukai, a very powerful one at that. Tsuzuki was powerful too, but his innocence and the excessive concern he had for other people always made him vulnerable. Something the shadow user both loved and despised about him.

_Tatsumi-san, please forgive me. I know I haven't been the model employee for you in all these years. I've been clumsy and scatterbrained and caused you a lot of expenses. But believe me when I say I did try._

Try, try to remember. How did one get out of a dream that just wouldn't stop? Is it even possible for people to get stuck in dreams?

_My feelings for you…I hurt so much when our partnership ended. But I know it was my fault. How could you work with me when all I ever caused you was trouble? Still, I wanted you to know…that I cherished every moment of it._

If it truly was a dream, could he step forward and take this Tsuzuki in his arms? This talking Tsuzuki who was a dream version of the real one? This Tsuzuki most likely created by the instruments of his imagination? Could he tilt his head up and inhale the scent of his hair? Could he touch the softness of his lips, part them tenderly and taste the sweet nectar of his mouth?

_Goodbye, Tatsumi-san. I will never forget what we had together. You will always have a special place in my heart._

This was what his mind was creating, very simple and very far from reality. Look… the Watari of his dream was standing there too. He wasn't moving at all, not objecting to anything that Tsuzuki said, not even to his uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch forever. He was just looking at him. Just like Tatsumi himself. Oh, and Tsuzuki all of a sudden lunged forward and hugged him; his voice now muffled by tears. And Watari was still standing there. Why did his dream version of Watari look so stunned?

Suzaku wasn't stunned. Suzaku was angry, and fighting. She was fighting Byakko who was trying to hold her back. She didn't want Tsuzuki to go, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him. This is when Tsuzuki would look at her with his stunning purple eyes full of guilt and start apologizing.

_I'm sorry…_

I'm sorry.

Cold. Flames. Separation. Darkness. Vines, dark and wispy vines. So many of them. Encircling, crawling, trapping. A gasp. More darkness. Plunge. Lost.

Lost.

...o...

_You are mine now. My Asato, my child of darkness. You will rise to great heights in my care, and will become truly worthy of your title as a Descendant of Darkness. The wheels of your destiny have finally begun to turn and you have no choice but to accept it. _

The words meant nothing to Tatsumi who stood there, transfixed, watching the proceedings. Only after Tsuzuki was hidden from his eyes by the great darkness did he realize how desperately hopeless their situation was. He watched how Hisoka had thrown himself into Tsuzuki's arms and cried. How he had tried to make him stay, make him turn back for him again. Just like that time in Kyoto. And just like in Kyoto, he himself was stuck between two worlds, two decisions. Should he let him go, watch him fade away in the mist of a fate that looked so helplessly unavoidable. Or should he fight, do what he could for the one he knew - now more than ever before – that he loved more than anyone else in this world?

"_Just as you taught me not to hesitate rescuing the one I love I want to teach you not to hold back showing him that you care."(1) _

_"Even I understand that Tsuzuki wants to die...You may want respect for such sentiments...but...that's just running away. What you want to do has nothing to do with what Tsuzuki wants. What do you want to do Tatsumi?"(2)_

_"Be there for him, Tatsumi-san. He needs our affection as much as our protection, to keep him safe from falling into the abyss of self-doubt. Don't get so lost in your sense of protectiveness that you ignore his other needs."(1)_

_"I'm sorry! If I live through this, I'll accept whatever the punishment is! But I don't want any regrets..."(3)_

_"There is nothing wrong with doing what you want Tatsumi. That's what Tsuzuki is doing...So it's all right for us to carry out what we want… (2)_

Before he even knew it he was running toward the Lord of Hell calling upon shadows to rise from everywhere, rise and strike and kill, kill everything that would stand in their way. Only one thought circled in his mind, over and over now. To free Tsuzuki, to bring him back to what he were.

He ran past the crowd, past Hisoka and Isorou and passed the threshold where the god's tendrils had reached mere seconds ago. He called in the shadows and told them to surround Mahorath and his minions. He knew he was lucky; Mahorath's unearthly crimson light was creating enough contrast in the room to give him enough substance to work with.

'Just a few more paces, a few more tries, and I will have unfastened that darkness that swallowed Tsuzuki. I will reach with my shadows and pull the edges of that darkness apart to reveal him. I won't let Him take Tsuzuki away.'

He was putting all his determination and will power in it, clearing away all doubt, every hesitation that had ever plagued him. He had never felt so strong, so right. It was the way it should have been from the start.

"… _After all, here and now isn't the place to determine who is in the right." (2)_

With a scream he focused all his power on just that one attack…and legions of shadows came from behind him, from everywhere, rising up like huge dragon heads arching over his form and crashing into the godly assembly with the force of a thousand armies.

_If this is the last thing I do before I pass on to the next life then so be it, because I want to leave this world without any regrets._

In the mayhem that ensued he saw the phantoms move. They formed a circle around their lord, and from it enormous energy shot out and tangled with his shadows. The two forces collided and spun, coiling and twirling around each other in a battle of invisible powers in mid air. His power was dark, theirs was like water, and their aerial fight created an image of dragons clashing in the sky over the ownership of the world like it was told in so many stories.

He shielded his eyes, the commotion and waves of energy that was emanating from the battle almost lifting him off his feet even though he was holding onto his footing with all his strength. When he dared to peek he saw that his opponents looked completely unfazed, the God of Hell himself standing there like a stone statue not even raising an eyebrow.

The explosion only happened a second later, and in the bright orange and yellow light of it he saw the winds and the shadows disappear, as if the mighty deity had finally been fed up with their ruckus and had decided to put an end to it. Only the god's power was beyond sufferable. It pulled the ground from underneath his feet and hurled him feets away to crash painfully on his side.

He shielded his head with his arms to guard himself against the blasts that followed and the force of rushing air as the evil god continued to unleash his anger, completely eradicating his paltry show of defiance. He could feel the ground shaking beneath him and the roar of explosions all around him. When it finally ended, settling in a nebula of dust and smoke covering him like a cold blanket, he knew he was finished.

But he hadn't anticipated not even having the strength to get up.

Perhaps the paralysis was part of the Hell Lord's magic. Perhaps his immortal body had finally given up, having been subjected to too much abuse in the past couple of days. He felt detached - numb - as if he had stepped outside his body and was now looking at it from a high angle. Perhaps that was the main reason why, when a minute later the cold repulsive tendrils of darkness looped around his body to lift him up, he was actually shocked that he could feel them.

His body was lifted off the ground helplessly by the force of the rising vines, holding him in place horizontally above the ground in a grotesque parody of a magician levitating a doll. His mind swirled as his head tilted backward, looking at the world from an up side down point of view. The upside down people yelled things he couldn't hear, the explosion having rendered his eardrums useless like the rest of his body. The upside down Watari ran toward him and was just outside his line of vision when he heard the hellish voice of the Demon King.

_Stay back shinigami or be crushed by my powers. You scrawny creatures are so below my station it is an insult to address you._

That got him to react. With painful slowness Tatsumi raised his head to look into the face of evil. Although all he could see was the darkness underneath the helmet he knew the eyes of Mahorath were on him. He had gained his attention in what might have been his last chance.

"Let…Tsuzuki…go," he said between catching breaths.

As if his mere words had broken a dam inside the angry lord's spirit, a massive surge of frost blew at and around him, like gusts of wind in a stormy night that would batter against the face of anyone foolish enough to open the door to the outside. He clenched his teeth and rode through it and through the reproach that came afterwards.

_Silence, kagetsukai. You are past my mercy with your actions. You should pray to your god that I'd go easy on you in your demise. _

Praying to his god.

Maybe that was what he should do. He surely had felt it when he was at the earl's castle. The closeness, the presence, the feeling that someone was watching him the entire time.

'EnmaDiao. Please heed my call'

...o...

It was Tatsumi's mad dash toward Mahorath and the roar of the shadows that made Watari snap out of his state of semi-shock. He had been beyond bewildered when the God of Hell had appeared, so much so that Tsuzuki's hasty farewell wishes and his dramatic departure to the guts of hell had not fully registered in his brain until now. Now he saw in front of him the battle that raged between Tatsumi's faithful shadows and the winds, or waters, or whatever it was those phantoms had conjured, and then the explosion. Tatsumi being propelled from the center of it, lying defenseless on the ground only to be snared by Mahorath's black, ethereal filaments like Tsuzuki had been and held in the air, suspended in the promise of more harm to come. That was the part that kicked life back into his numb legs and jarred him to action. What was he doing just standing there anyway? He ran toward his friend, past Hisoka who was sobbing on the floor, and right into the territory of the frightening dark beings.

_Stay back shinigami or be crushed by my powers. You scrawny creatures are so below my station it is an insult to address you._

It wasn't the words that jolted him into a stop, nor was it the intensifying bright red flames behind the god that seemed to flare up in accordance to his temper. It was the voice itself. Like a physical blow, an invisible wall suddenly appearing in front of him and keeping him from moving forward even an inch. He knew it wasn't real; there was no substantial form to the barricade he'd felt rising in front of him. It was an alternative form of fear, one that was injected to him by the shear frightfulness of that voice.

And just as effectively, it had stolen _his_ voice away.

Or had it?

"Let…Tsuzuki…go."

Watari's head whipped around to see Tatsumi, his eyes going wide. Tatsumi was still fighting, despite the terrible odds. He wasn't going to give up on Tsuzuki and he was wagering his life on it.

It didn't surprise Watari at all. If anything, the quiet words gave him courage. He too would do his part in the battle no matter the outcome. If he were to lose his friends in this unfair conflict he might as well go with them to wherever those guilty of defying the gods of heaven and hell went.

_Silence, kagetsukai. You are past my mercy with your actions. You should pray to your god that I'd go easy on you in your demise. _

Watari stepped forward and raised his head.

"Stop it," he said.

Silence fell, as did all eyes on him.

There was something indescribably terrifying in the way the helmet turned fractionally toward him. Yet more fear as one of the smoky filaments reached out to touch his face. His teeth started to chatter so hard he lost control over his jaw entirely, the clatter in his mouth sounding ten times louder in his scull.

_I see. Seems like all of you are due for a long well-deserved lesson in behavior and respect._

Watari stared at Mahorath like a trapped bird. He couldn't move, and after that initial outburst he was once again speechless. It also might have been because he absolutely couldn't stop his teeth from clicking even as he closed his mouth.

Just then he heard something and looked up. Up at Tatsumi to see his lips moving. Tatsumi was saying something and even through the sound of his own chattering teeth he was able to hear a word of it.

EnmaDiao.

...o...

'EnmaDiao, please heed my call.'

He could feel it clearly now. The same feeling he had had at the Earl's castle. As if by instinct, through something in his heart, he knew he was heard.

'We are at our wits' end. We have no powers left. You are our only hope. Please don't abandon us. Please don't abandon your loyal employees.'

He felt the cold vines that bound him move. They were slimy and repulsive and of no real substance. They were extensions of the darkness that came from hell and would swallow a soul and everything that was good about it. He knew if they pulled him down he would instantly die in their throng. Yet he persisted to carry on and forget everything for an instance. Forget fear, forget exigency, and forget the guilt that threatened to suffocate his heart.

'Enma-sama, please help us. Please help Tsuzuki-san. Are you going to let him go without a fight?'

...o...

Was Tatsumi praying? Watari wasn't sure as all he could discern was his lips moving and the occasional utterance of what he thought was EnmaDiao's name. He was relieved when the extension caressing his jaw was removed and turned to see what the God of Hell was doing. The helmet was turned to the side, seemingly looking at something farther to the right. Watari turned that way too; instinct telling him to check what was there even though all he saw was pitch black darkness.

Everything was silent, everything save for Tatsumi's hushed whispers on ragged breaths, and there it was again, carried on a shallow exhale…

"EnmaDiao"

As if the word had conjured something Watari saw a spark appear in the darkness. It grew wider instantly, brightening the area around it as a form appeared. Another prominent deity stepping forward from within the beams of sharp silvery light. This one in robes. Yards and yards of fine silk draped over a body twice the size of a tall man, he was dressed like an emperor, long wide sleeves and traditional black hat. The patterns on his white robe were intricate, beautiful in a majestic way, as if a wall scroll was wrapped around him. The embroidered illustrations depicted a place Watari knew: Meifu.

And all of a sudden recognition dawned, and his heart trembled.

"Welcome, Enma-dono." Mahorath announced.

"Greetings to you, Lord Mahorath."

Silence again in which both gods and their audience observed the scene in front of them. Mahorath was a statue still, only his head turned to show he was aware of the other deity. Enma was motionless as well and they could sense someone with him although that person was hidden behind the large body and its long robes.

It was the first time some of the shinigami were meeting their superior face to face, although that may not be the correct way to put it since, like Mahorath, there was little of Enma's face that could actually be seen. Most of the upper part of his face was covered by a mask, much like the ones actors wore in a Kabuki play. Only his mouth was visible, which didn't move even as he spoke.

"We are almost done here. Was there anything you wanted to impart?" Mahorath asked.

"Please release my employee first and then we talk." Enma said.

Mahorath hesitated for a moment. He let his tendrils drift in the next, dropping Tatsumi to the ground like dead weight. Watari rushed to his side right away, fearful that the hellish god had some other evil deeds in mind. But Mahorath seemed to have entirely lost interest in them, his full attention on his equal now.

"Tell me Enma-dono, why are you here?"

Enma walked a few steps closer, dragging his heavy robe behind him. He stood and raised his head. The red light coming from behind Mahorath bounced off his mask contrasting with Enma's own silver white light. He tipped his head up, chin raised and hidden eyes on the other god. All eyes were drawn to his lips in anticipation of his answer, yet once again the lips stayed close even through the reply.

"I'm here for Tsuzuki."

"What about him?"

"I am his superior. I have a right to know where he is."

"Tsuzuki Asato is no longer a JuOhCho employee. He was claimed by Makai due to the outcome of the trial."

"And who was the judge of that?"

"There was no need for judgment. Tsuzuki Asato invoked the demonic forces of the Apocalypse. That by default makes him a high ranking member of Hell."

"Only if his heart is soiled. Those were the terms of the trial." Enma shifted in his robes and made them rustle.

"How can the heart of someone who would bring such destruction upon the world be anything but corrupted? Do you claim his heart is pure only on the basis of it being an indrawn call as opposed to an outburst?" Mahorath countered.

Enma tilted his head, "That and the fact that deep within his heart he suffered throughout the whole ordeal. Tsuzuki was pushed into calling the Apocalypse, tormented past all his barriers he lost control because of immense grief. And yet he didn't wish maximum harm to others who were responsible for his suffering and he called the destruction towards himself. He wished to end his own life to spare his friends more pain and hardship and that, in any of the books of celestial code, is a noble and courageous act."

Mahorath paused, silently staring with his flames still brightly shining in the background, expanding and retreating like snakes in a pit that perfectly framed his significant body. He seemed to be evaluating Enma's argument, which come to think of it, did need careful consideration as it carried strong and valid truths.

Watari took the opportunity to check up on Tatsumi and see how he was faring. To his relief he saw the secretary's eyes open and it looked like he was listening to the conversation as well. Sensing how close they were to the center of that celestial argument and deeming it unsafe, Watari hooked an arm around Tatsumi's waist and used his shoulder to help the other man stand up. Tatsumi struggled to his feet and together they limped toward where the others were. Hisoka rushed to help them once they got close and sat next to Tatsumi as Watari helped him sit on the ground, himself settling on the other side to join the two of them.

"Are you ok?" Hisoka asked his superior quietly, his small hand touching the other's arm as if to make sure he was really there. Tatsumi's only answer was the way he grabbed the small hand, squeezing it in silent reassurance. He communicated something to Hisoka that, even with his eyes fixated on the stage ahead, made the boy calm down.

Watari himself turned his attention back to the two mighty beings, just as Mahorath started to speak.

"He has a dark soul. It conceals very dark powers. Such a soul can only act under my jurisdiction. It belongs in Makai and you have no argument to contest it."

"So you deem his soul tainted? Do you want me to prove you wrong?" Enma said.

"I can't see how you could."

"Show him to me and we'll test it."

"The test is over. The outcome is what gives me the right to claim him."

"The test is not over yet, and I am not convinced the outcome was in your favor."

"What are you suggesting?" Mahorath's voice was tinged with irritation. Behind him, his heatless, soundless flames shifted.

"I suggest we do one last trial to determine who's in the right. I even offer one of your own as the means of evaluation," said Enma.

"One of my own?"

Enma wordlessly pulled the person he was hiding behind the bulk of his body forward. The shinigamis let out a collective gasp. It was Ayaka.

She was wearing a long, flowing dress made of a strange fabric. Its color constantly shifted from white to black then shimmered back to white. It was as if one angle of light gave it a different color than the other. Most of her hair poured down behind her but the familiar two crescents usually held at the back of her head were off and the locks moved in the air as if caught by a great breeze, the same that flailed Mahorath's flame. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, and she had both her hands clasped in front of her.

She was an angel, demon, angel, demon, angel.

Then she opened her eyes revealing a set of mismatched irises, one plum, the other fire red.

Enma laid a hand on her shoulder guiding her forward. Standing next to her he looked at Mahorath and said, "I'm sure you remember her. She was sent by you along with the prosecutor for the trial."

Mahorath was silent for a moment. Then he confirmed. "Nourian? What is the meaning of this?"

"No, she's two entities in one body. Nourian is only half of that identity; Yano Ayaka is the other half. And she's the one who suggested it."

"Suggested what?"

"That we use her for the test. See Ayaka has been watching Tsuzuki throughout the trial. She is convinced that he is pure of soul and she is willing to risk her own existence to prove it.

Let Ayaka test Tsuzuki's soul. If he is pure he would return. If he is evil however, he could be yours and I swear an oat on my honor never to contest you for him again."

"And how is Ayaka going to perform this test?" Mahorath asked.

"It is actually quite simple, "Enma replied, "She has to feel him deep inside. When a connection is made and his soul starts pouring into hers her two personalities will interact with it. If he is pure his soul would chase Nourian's spirit out of the body, if he is tainted then Ayaka will be the one who would be chased away." Enma said.

"And Ayaka agreed to this?"

"She was the one who proposed it."

Mahorath's helmet tilted down looking at the silent woman whose body was dwarfed next to the body of the god she stood beside. Her eyes were on him with a deep and quiet resolution shining through them.

"And Nourian? What does she have to say about this?" asked Mahorath.

"She is currently contained within the body by Ayaka's spirit. Ayaka is holding her back and it's not easy on her. I suggest if we are to do this we start soon."

Mahorath didn't answer.

"You are hesitant, Mahorath-san. Could it be that you doubt your own conviction?"

"Is Ayaka so confident in Tsuzuki's integrity that she is willing to risk her life for it?"

"That she is."

"I want to hear it from her."

"I believe in him" Ayaka said. Yet her voice was blended with strange echoes. As if distant cries were accompanying each word she spoke.

"Very well then. Here is the prize." With a sweep of his hand Mahorath formed another curtain of darkness that flew by to reveal Tsuzuki's tall form to the eyes of the quiet audience. Mahorath moved to stand behind him, holding his arms at the level of Tsuzuki's head, leaving the shinigami deep in his meditative pose with his eyes closed and his head bowed as if in a great trance. Perhaps the god was keeping his unconscious body upright by the spiritual powers he was channeling through his arms.

That theory seemed truer when Mahorath dropped his arms a minute later and Tsuzuki opened his eyes. For a moment he was completely still before an honestly surprised look crossed his face upon seeing Ayaka.

Both deities stepped back, their imposing bulks blanketed by the shadows around and only Tsuzuki and the strange, fluctuating version of Ayaka stayed in the circle of light that had appeared out of somewhere. They stood a few feet apart, seemingly sizing each other up, until Ayaka walked up to Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki still looked bemused. He let the ex-angel timidly touch his face and still didn't react as her hand moved down to his throat. It was as if Ayaka wanted to make sure Tsuzuki was real. When she got her reassurance she stepped back and looked at him with large, soulful eyes.

"Is this…another dream?" Tsuzuki asked tentatively.

"Yes. In a way." She replied.

"Am I in hell now?"

"Not quite. But we are very close."

"What happened?"

Ayaka shook her head. "Nothing. You need to do this to decide our destinies," she said.

"Our destinies? How can I do that when, so far, nothing had been by my decision?"

"You are wrong, Tsuzuki. Everything, all that's happened so far was a direct or indirect result of your decisions. You're the one who has shaped the conclusion of the trial. There is only one more step left."

Tsuzuki's eyes darkened 'I am responsible for it all,' "And what is that?"

Ayaka took another step forward so that they were standing very close. "Kiss me, "she said.

"What?"

Tsuzuki's query was echoed by a number of other hushed ones from the rest of the audience. Ayaka paid them no heed, her eyes staying lovingly on the purple eyed man in front of her and a smile dancing on her lips.

"Kiss me," she repeated. "It's the only way to find out. If you are good I'll be Ayaka, if you are evil I'll be Nourian. My destiny will be determined by you."

Tsuzuki blinked in worry. "But, what if I **am **evil? What then? You will lose your body to Nourian."

She shook her head. "No. I won't. Because, Tsuzuki, I know that you are not." And there was determination in her voice that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

Tsuzuki was still hesitant. Ayaka reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close.

"Kiss me, Tsuzuki Asato. Kiss me and set us both free."

Tsuzuki paused only for another heartbeat, staring intently in the other's mismatched eyes. Then their lips met and melted into the kiss, Tsuzuki's arms coming up to wrap themselves around her slim body.

They stayed locked like that for a long time.

The room stayed quiet. Even the gods were soundless. Hisoka stared rapt at the picture. Two beautiful creatures frozen into a silent kiss like ancient statues in old shrines. The image cracked as he saw tears appear at the corners of Tsuzuki's closed eyes to run down his flushed cheeks like crystalline streams. Slowly a corona of light appeared between them, growing steadily and embracing them both in its bright halo of light. As their lips parted Ayaka's body fell backwards, unconscious and held at the waist by Tsuzuki's strong arms that encased her tenderly, his eyes on her face and a warm smile on his lips despite the tears.

As slowly as it had appeared the light went out. Enma moved forward, taking the angel from Tsuzuki into his own arms. Tsuzuki stepped back, his eyes lifting to his superior; there was honesty in them, coupled with acceptance and a gentle kind of appeal.

Enma extended a hand to touch Tsuzuki's face. Tsuzuki leaned into the caress though his eyes never left Enma's.

"Blessings, my child. You are back with us."

The silence that ensued was comforting for once.

"Is she all right?" Tsuzuki asked looking at Ayaka with concern.

"See for yourself." Enma replied as his huge form came down to sit on the ground with Ayaka's still body in his lap. Folds and folds of fine silk surrounded her and her white face looked almost translucent against the cream white of Enma's robes. Tsuzuki came closer and knelt by her side.

His hand combed through her hair and she opened her eyes, showing warm mahogany colored irises.

"Hi, Tsuzuki." She said with a smile.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess. Free." Her smile reached her eyes.

"Why did you do it, Ayaka? Why such a risk? You could have lost your whole life to Nourian."

She shook her head from side to side, "I would have gladly accepted that if it had to be that way. Better not to live at all than to live my life a prisoner to her will. And it was the only way to show them the real you."

"The real me…"

"Yes, Tsuzuki. You and everything that is you. You may not know it. You may think you are worthless and evil. But to me, you - your kindness, your gentle heart and your feelings of self-sacrifice - it's worth loosing my life over."

Tsuzuki was stunned by the declaration.

He leaned forward and hugged her.

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Ayaka." He breathed in her hair.

There came more calm. As if no one dared to break the moment between them.

Until Enma finally raised his head and looked at his nemesis who had remained in the shadows across from them the entire time.

"I guess it is settled," he said.

Mahorath didn't answer. He didn't move. To Hisoka and the others he looked like a stone statue, spellbinded the moment he had backed into the darkness. And for some reason his silence seemed more intimidating than his loud speech or his play of flames and phantoms.

Tsuzuki turned and looked at the Makai monarch with worried eyes. He slowly disengaged himself from Ayaka and stood up to face the god.

"Tsuzuki…" Mahorath said. There was a ring to his tone that could have been a deep sigh, or a part of their imagination. The tendrils of darkness extended from him again, coming forwards and surrounding Tsuzuki in a black embrace. The shinigami shuddered at the cold touch. He accepted it nonetheless and understood the necessity of it for the deity who wanted to test the truth for himself. He felt it in the way the darkness probed his mind.

Mahorath withdrew with a loving caress of his cheek. The tendril softly sliding over his skin before the god pulled it completely into himself. There was a sense of calm defeat in the gesture.

His next words however were firm and forbidding. "You may think you have settled our claim on him. But we are only back where we started before we decided on the trial. He is still bound to his duties as a shinigami until his term is over."

He was talking to Enma.

"I agree." Enma said, bowing his head fractionally. Tsuzuki swiftly turned to him.

"Does that mean," he asked, "I'd be going back to Meifu?"

"Yes, my child."

Tsuzuki was about to say something when his attention was drawn back once again to the dark lord who started speaking again.

"They will go back to exactly where they were before we brought them into this dimension. No change in the deal and no interference in the events that have already transpired. Agreed?"

Enma pressed his lips for a fleeting moment before assenting to that as well.

"Yes, of course."

Hisoka didn't get the meaning of that statement at first, or the reason why Enma seemed so ill at ease. Then it dawned on him, and a cold sweat ran down his spine.

The Apocalypse.

They were going back to exactly where they had left off, facing the upcoming Apocalypse.

Tsuzuki turned his eyes to Ayaka, still resting on the ground with her head on Enma's lap and her eyes closed. Her expression was softened by a peaceful sleep.

"What will happen to her?" he asked.

"I will take care of her. She too is under my supervision from this moment on," said Enma. He stood up, lifting Ayaka's body in his arms. Tsuzuki just stared with his expressive violet eyes, not having much to say.

Enma turned to the group of Tsuzuki's friends. "I leave him to you," he said, "I trust that you would protect him with your life."

It took the shinigami a moment to realize he wasn't talking to them but to the guardian beast gods that where standing with them. Suzaku straightened up, lifting her proud head and looking at Enma. She nodded in confirmation. Behind her, Byakko did the same.

The god's head moved a bit, shifting like he was addressing someone else. "You shinigami, take shelter within their powers. You're up against something more powerful than you could imagine. You will survive as long as you trust in their strength, because their powers feed directly from their master's which is the only force that can stand against the unleashed evil."

Hisoka, Tatsumi and Watari bobbed their heads at the same time, too stunned to be able to speak. No matter what these gods were saying, the way they said it and the weight of their presence was enough to make everyone mute.

"Master…"

Almost everyone.

"Master, what about me?"

Isorou walked slowly between the shinigami and stepped out of the crowd. He took a few steps towards Mahorath and stopped just before he reached that core of shadowy darkness. He stood there unsure, not knowing if his inquiry was heard.

Since the hell god didn't reply he assumed that it wasn't. With a bit more urgency he continued.

"I did my duty, Master. I followed every direction you gave me. Do I have to go back as well?"

It was odd hearing him speak in that voice. After so much confident talk, so many arrogant, threatening speeches, hearing him plead was like hearing Tatsumi do karaoke.

From what they all had seen of Mahorath, everyone expected the dark god to ignore him. It was a surprise to all when the next moment the helmeted head turned and the god's deep voice resonated in the hall.

"Isorou Masaki, you served me well."

Isorou's features brightened upon hearing that. He was about to say something when Mahorath cut him off.

"You are right, you followed every order I gave you, going even beyond the call of duty. Doing things I never asked of you and because of that, you pushed away one of my most potential descendants. Made him so he would never want to set foot in my kingdom, or have anything to do with our kind."

Isorou's smile twitched on his lips before it disappeared. With anxious eyes he stared at his master not sure where this was leading.

"You took your duties to heart, yet you tainted your devotion with your feelings of betrayal and jealousy. You wanted to hurt the shinigami in order to make up for what had been done to you in the past, when you failed at your own trial. There you stepped out of line and mixed your job with your personal feelings."

"But, I did it only to assure your success. I didn't want to give up so I put every effort I could spare into this assignment…to ensure you got what you wished for." Isorou said with a voice carrying an edge of panic.

"I never wished for you to harm him. You made that decision all on your own and went much too far in it. Your fate is the direct result of your actions."

Isorou opened his mouth then shut it with a gasp. For a moment he was completely still, looking at Mahorath as if he was unsure of what he had heard. He said, "But I thought everyone was supposed to get hurt in their trial. My first hand experience certainly confirmed it."

Mahorath's voice was like a whiplash, "You failed your trial. And you failed as a prosecutor. There isn't much slack left to give you. You have to face your fate, the consequence of your actions, just like everyone else."

"But they…but Master…"

He saw Mahorath turn as if to indicate the conversation was over.

"Master please, listen to me."

He called after him, raising a hand like he was trying to pull him back. When it failed and the glowing flames disappeared he let his hand fall to his side, eyes wide with despair.

Soon after, the ground started quaking underneath them, much like it had when they where brought to this place in the beginning. Hisoka grabbed onto Watari's coat and the two of them looked as the area around them started spinning and becoming more and more blurred. Hisoka quickly turned to Tsuzuki, saw him still standing next to EnmaDiao before he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. He yelled and got to his feet, running toward him. Half way there he was outrun by Tatsumi who had the same destination in mind. Both of them knelt by Tsuzuki's side as the world continued to swirl at a dizzying speed. Enma was still there. Hisoka saw him creep closer and stand over Tatsumi's shoulder. He heard the god's voice, "Tatsumi-san, remember to…" but the rest of it was swallowed up by the rush of wind that started blowing all around them.

Once everything cleared they blinked and saw themselves back at Meifu, in exactly the same position they had left.

Tsuzuki was on the ground unconscious. This time however he looked peaceful, more like he was asleep rather than passed out from exhaustion. Perhaps the knowledge that he had passed the trial and succeeded in escaping Makai was comforting him from somewhere deep within his subconscious.

As soon as they got their bearings Suzaku moved forward, once again cradling Tsuzuki's head in her lap. She looked up at Byakko who was equally kneeling next to their master. The tiger's hand went through Tsuzuki's soft hair as the two shikigami spoke to each other for a while, discussing what they had to do. Byakko stood up then, taking a few steps away from the rest of the group before changing into his beast form with the upheaval of a small hurricane that symbolized his power. The white tiger swished his tail back and forth, looking over his shoulder to assess his target before taking a deep inhale and creating a large bauble of air that grew around them steadily and encased them within the protective cover of its currents. Its purpose was clearly to use the power of wind against a much larger force that was soon going to reach them.

Suzaku was still in her human form and hanging onto Tsuzuki. She could see the other shikigami as he walked the periphery of his barrier. Hisoka was sitting next to her, his eyes worried and on her face.

"Suzaku-san," he was still not close enough with the fire shikigami, unlike the others, to be comfortable calling her 'Neesan', so he went ahead with her name, "Sukazu-san, do you think it will work?"

Suzaku replied without looking at him, "Let's all hope it does. It's the only chance we have." She looked down and gently caressed Tsuzuki's face. "I trust him, you know. I trust that Tsuzuki-san – even lost as he was – has done everything in his power to prevent causing too much damage. He won't fail us." She looked up, showing Hisoka a smile that warmed the young shinigami's anxious heart. "And **we** won't fail him either." She said as she handed Tsuzuki over to Hisoka before standing up and moving away.

She stood a few feet away and looked up at the sky. Slowly, she spread her arms out, and her hair started flying around wild like the flames she commanded. Hisoka had to cover his eyes when the fires started. Large coils of flames rising from around her body, pillars of it growing from the ground and reaching up toward the sky. The light became so bright that it hid her entirely from his sight and then, from within that light, the sound of flapping wings came to his ears. Slowly the wings opened, appearing like they were taking part of the fire with them. They were wings made out of fire which belonged to the largest bird Hisoka had seen in his life, and as they moved aside, the shikigami's head appeared. Red eyes looking down at the area around and letting out a loud shriek before the beast finally settled down.

The fires calmed as well until there was only the phoenix left.

Hisoka was in awe. It was true that he had seen the fire bird before but never this close and never in all of its flaming glory. It was one thing to see Tsuzuki's prime shikigami in battle, entirely different thing to watch it standing mere paces away from you and towering 20 feet above your head. He would have jumped back if Tsuzuki wasn't nestled in his arms.

Suzaku moved closer. With the size she occupied you would have expected her walk to be clumsy, but instead she showed grace even as a beast, almost gliding to the spot closest to her master without letting any of the flames touch him.

She stood there for a moment, staring down at the two shinigamis in silence. Then she slowly opened her wings, the fire making a whooshing sound as they passed by Hisoka's ear. The wings came around like a large tent and enclosed the patch of ground where Tsuzuki was lying. Hisoka watched as the sky above his head was colored orange and red by the burning flames, surprisingly with no significant heat, and translucent enough for him to still be able to see his surroundings.

He heard Watari's voice and saw him through the flames approaching. As the scientist got close he poked his head through the curtain of fire, "Want some company?" he asked with a little wink.

Hisoka just stared at him and the scientist stepped inside. He came forward and sat on the ground next to Hisoka, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "You ok?"

Hisoka nodded. He was looking down at Tsuzuki's sleeping face, his small hand reaching to brush away some stray locks.

Watari's eyes turned to the sleeping shinigami as well. "Looking at him sleeping like this, you wouldn't believe he is the same man that has two of the most powerful gods of the underworld fighting over him. I mean, this clumsy, baka, always late on duty shinigami who would even leave his shoes unlaced if it meant getting to the dessert table sooner…," he too put a hand on Tsuzuki's face, brushing the side of his cheek gently, "…it's like you almost forget what he truly is. But then again, I like him that way."

Hisoka smiled slightly. He recognized the spoken words for what they were. Watari's casual conversation meant to ease his heart. He looked up at the scientist warmly.

Watari smiled, his grip on the boy's shoulder tightening in reassurance. He then looked through Suzaku's wings at the grounds beyond were Tatsumi was still standing. "Oi, Tatsumi-san. You better get in here. We have to stay close so it would be easier for neesan to protect us."

Tatsumi's face was turned away, his gaze locked on the lone figure who stood the farthest from the group within the wind shikigami's barrier. Watari followed that gaze until he discovered what the secretary was looking at.

"Tatsumi"

The secretary abruptly turned and walked toward them.

"What were you looking at?" Watari asked as soon as Tatsumi entered the shelter of the burning wings.

"Nothing," the secretary replied, "It wasn't important." He knelt beside them on the ground.

Watari looked at the spot Tatsumi was staring at a minute ago and said, "Well, that which isn't important is going to die if he doesn't take shelter anytime soon."

"And why should we care?" Tatsumi inquired flatly.

"Because…"Watari started but couldn't find any good arguments that immediately came to mind

Tatsumi stared him in the face. "You think after all he's done to us, there is even one reason to invite him to share our shelter?"

Watari looked at the sleeping face of Tsuzuki, thinking hard. He raised his head then and met the secretary's gaze evenly. "Yes, I think there is."

"And what would that be?"

The scientist sighed and stood up. "I'll tell you later." He walked out of the circle of fire and started closing the distance between him and the prosecutor.

Isorou was standing with his back to them, staring off into distance. Watari couldn't see his eyes but he could feel the tenseness in his shoulders. Slowly he approached, just now realizing how uncomfortable his chosen task was. He stepped forward until he could see the other man's profile. Isorou was as rigid as a general on a battle field.

"Um, you know, Isorou-san, I was just wondering…" Watari started but had to stop there. He honestly couldn't find the right words to say. There was simply too much history between him and this man to make it anything like a casual conversation.

Isorou didn't give any hints of sensing his presence; he just continued staring at horizon. Watari looked at him and thought he saw a shade of the sadness he had felt from the man at the teahouse so many lifetimes ago. No, not just a shade, the sadness was there. Only this time, Watari knew where it had come from, what it meant. He thought he knew entirely too much.

"Isorou-san," he tried again, "the Apocalypse is coming. I think you should take cover with us."

"And may I ask why you think so?" The grey haired man said as he turned to look at him.

"Because…if you don't you will die."

"And that bothers you? I thought my death was your wish after what I did to your friends."

Watari looked away. It took him a while to answer. "I hated you for what you did to my friends, that much is true. I hated you so much. And I'm sorry, I still do to some extent." He looked back again, "But I don't want you to die. I believe – and feel free to call me crazy for it – that there's still a spark of redemption in you. I know you work for Makai but even so, there should be some way for you to become decent and make things right."

Isorou gave a short laugh. "Correction, Watari-san. I _worked_ for Makai. Now I'm as unwanted anywhere as the next stray soul. Not even the demons of hell would have me."

Watari bit his lip, remembering what the demon lord had said.

"Stop pretending Watari-san. Take your pity and your good intentions to someone who deserves it. There is nothing left in this shell of a man for you to save."

Watari stared at him desperately. "You know what, Isorou-san? Not to be preachy or anything, but the way you treat people has a lot to do with how much care they show you." Probably the wrong thing to say at that moment but Watari wanted to get it out since he thought it was his last chance and he had bottled it up for far too long.

Isorou didn't answer; his eyes turning to look at far away once again. It became quite frustrating to Watari who was starting to feel anxious and wanted to go back to the safety of Suzaku's wings.

"Listen, let's forget all the crap that happened in the past and try saving our lives for now. This Apocalypse I've been told is no small matter. It will wipe out everything and you included if you don't use the shikigami as cover. So please, Isorou-san, let's go hide under those wings and leave the discussion for later. I'm sure we can come up with a reasonable solution for your dilemma in the future."

He suddenly got distracted by a muffled noise coming from the distance. He looked over and his eyes went wide. There was a flicker on the horizon. Like a huge wave you would see coming towards the shore from the far away reaches of the ocean.

Only this wave was coming towards them from all directions.

"So this is it. The infamous Apocalypse of the Descendant of Darkness. I'm glad I was able to witness it in my lifetime." Isorou said.

Watari was beginning to panic. Behind him, he could hear Tatsumi and Hisoka calling for him to return but somehow he couldn't take his eyes off the vigilant profile of the man used to be known as the prosecutor, the man who was calmly watching the rolling approach of his impending doom.

He became desperate.

"Isorou-san, I know how you feel. I know what being betrayed feels like, it's not unfamiliar to me. But we have to realize that there is always a chance. And we can change if we let others around us help us.

You see I for example wasn't the genki prankful scientist I am now when I first came to Meifu. I had a dark past and it made me vengeful and cold. I looked at everyone like they were my enemy. But people cared for me. They started befriending me and sooner than I thought I found myself changing into a person that was for years hidden inside me, beneath layers of hate and hurt. I started feeling happy again. I learned how to love, how to make friends and enjoy life to the fullest. But it was all because I gave myself the chance to live as a shinigami and take that first step."

The rumbling was getting louder and closer and Watari's panic was beginning to show on his face. Isorou looked at him impassively.

"Please, Isorou-san. Give yourself that chance. I know you have that other personality hidden in you somewhere. Maybe if you live another day we will find a way to make it come forth."

"Watari-san, you have to go. It's time you took care of your own safety." Isorou said.

"NO!" Watari yelled and grabbed the other man by his arms, "I won't go like this. I hate failing like this. I want you to come with me." Then, as if remembering something his eyes shined. He still had one last trump card to use.

"You cared for me didn't you?' he said, "You wanted me to be your friend. If you don't want to see me die then come with me. Because I am not going to leave you."

Isorou continued staring at him in the same detached manner. It almost surprised him when the man spoke.

"I'll come with you only if you answer me one question, truthfully that is," said Isorou.

Watari nodded.

"Tell me why you are so concerned for my life. Why are you insisting so much that I don't die and come to safety with you?"

Watari opened his mouth quickly to answer when he found Isorou's fingers on his lips, "Remember, truthful answer."

Watari lowered his eyes. He glanced back at the circle of fire Suzaku's wings had created, the people within who were frantically calling for him to come, to save himself and forget the man who was the cause of all of this to begin with. He sighed. "I want you to live, because…because I don't want Tsuzuki to be sad. I know that even though you hurt him so much, if you die he will feel guilty. I don't want him to be like that, so I want you to be safe." He looked Isorou in the eyes, "That is _his _true personality, you know. _His_ weakness for which everyone loves him. You asked me once why everyone loved Tsuzuki, remember? Well, here's your answer. Maybe if you had given _your_ weaknesses a chance you wouldn't have found yourself alone. People would've loved you as well."

Isorou smiled and looked away.

Watari grabbed him tighter. He had to yell now for his voice to be heard over the roar of the disaster. "But it's not too late. Choose to live and you will find happiness."

"Will you be my friend if I did?" Isorou asked, his voice drowning in the noises getting close.

Watari agreed frantically. "Yes I will. I swear I will." He grabbed Isorou's arm and ran as fast as he could, dragging him behind him. The wave was already too close, looming like a great sandstorm over them.

Till this day Watari doesn't know what exactly happened next. He remembers the loud crashing noises, how the earth began rumbling underneath his feet, and he himself, running like a madman out of hell, his vision tunneled to the fragile shelter of Suzaku's wings.

He can't remember when or how he lost his grip on Isorou.

Maybe he was assuming the man was still following him when he threw himself into the sanctuary of Suzaku's fire. Only when he turned around, out of breath and at the end of his nerves, he saw that the man was still outside. Standing there with a calm expression on his face and a smile, the same he had shown him during their conversation. Right before the whole world began to fall apart.

He can't quite remember if he yelled for him. Or was he just yelling with no sense? Out of fear perhaps? The scene all around him was certainly something to be frightened about. The Apocalypse up close was perhaps the scariest thing a man could see in his life and then die. A mass of pure evil, hundreds of feet high, that coiled and swirled around in dark shades of grey and black and red. More disturbingly there were faces appearing in it, images of tortured souls trying to break free. Even the noises weren't just vague rumblings anymore, but demon voices, screams and shrieks and a lot of other unpleasant things in a wall of horror surrounding them from everywhere.

That was the last time he saw Isorou Masaki's face before he was swallowed by that wall, his face becoming a permanent painting amongst the thousands of horrible images etched forever into the surface of the demonic spectacle. He was still wearing that smile.

And that was when the Apocalypse hit them.

TBC

Author's note: Some of you may think Watari is a bit OOC here in the way he insists on saving Isorou's life. After all they'd never been close and in fact, there were times Watari hated Isorou to bits and pieces. However, the justification I'm using here are the few words Watari speaks to Isorou about his past and his early days in Meifu. I'm trying to imply that **something **happened in Watari's mortal life that somehow paralleled Isorou's experiences and caused Watari to sympathize with him. Hence he got hung up on rescuing Isorou. What it was I won't explain here, but it could be great substance for another story.

Yes, I know I said this was to be the last chapter. Guess what, I lied :) There is one more chapter to come after this. Hopefully it won't take me as long to finish it as it took me this one.

I would appreciate any reviews that you'd send my way even though this time I'm sure I don't deserve them since I left you hanging for almost three months. So if you feel like punishing me leave without a word, you have every right to do that. But if you feel like giving me a word or two of encouragement despite my sluggish updates by all means go ahead.

* * *

(1) The Earl—Chapter Eleven 

(2) Watari – Manga Volume 8 (Part 26) – The Kyoto files. As they are watching Tsuzuki commit suicide in Touda's fire.

(3) Hisoka – same volume, same part, before he jumps into fire after Tsuzuki.


	16. The Conclusion

Here it is finally, the last chapter of my so called epic Yami no Matsuei fic. After many months and a lot of ups and down I finally managed to finish it. I know it took me much too long to write this final chapter even though I had promised to post it sooner. Turns out, writing an ending to a story that is over 90000 words long is harder than you think. I had to look back at the whole span of the fic, evaluate and assess every relationship, event and character development, to be able to write a fitting conclusion. Add to that the fact that this hasn't been a particularly quiet time in my life (graduation, portfolio show, new job, Guild Wars) and hopefully you'd understand and forgive me this big delay.

Before I proceed I'd like to point out that this story in its entirety is dedicated to my reviewers, everyone whose name is in the review section, this story is theirs. A couple of new ones in particular really warmed my heart. Among them **Amethyst-eyed Koneko** whose praises almost brought me to tears. Thank you, all of you, so very much. I hope this meets your expectations.

**What happened so far:** Just as the shinigami thought Tsuzuki was lost to them when he was taken by the evil lord Mahorath, Enma-diao appears and claims that Tsuzuki belongs to him. Ayaka offers the last key to settle the dispute between the two gods by bidding herself as the trial. Enma wins and Tsuzuki is returned to Meifu, only to face the looming threat of the Apocalypse together with his friends. Huddled beneath the protection of Suzaku's shelter, Watari notices Isorou – who was cast out by his employer Mahorath – is facing the disaster head on and with no regard to his life. In an attempt to rescue the man, Watari tries to convince him to throw away his melancholy and start anew on the side of the good guys. Unfortunately it proves to be too late for the prosecutor. The Apocalypse comes and the shinigami are faced with one the most frightening events of their lives.

Now the conclusion…

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The Trial Chapter 15 – The Conclusion 

His room at the hospital was clean and small. There was a cherry tree by the window in full blossom all year around. It obscured a quarter of the view outside but it didn't matter much since the window was pretty large.

Outside was splendid. This section of the hospital was barely used, usually closed off and only used for special cases or if they had someone in intensive magic care. So he had never seen it before. It faced a beautiful grass field sprinkled with yellow flowers and flanked by a grove of cherry trees. You couldn't see the JuOhCho buildings from here and if you would let yourself believe, just for a moment, you could almost think you were somewhere else.

No one knew why, of the entire hospital complex, this was the section least damaged by the Apocalypse.

Tsuzuki leaned back against the pillows he had propped up at the head of the bed and stared out the window. It was a nice day. The wind was blowing through the trees playing with the blossoms and making nature look vibrant and alive. Everything was soft and clear, like the frilly tendrils of a dream after sleep was over. Of course it was like this everyday in Meifu but it was the first time Tsuzuki had looked at it through the eyes of someone stuck inside. His time here had shown him how little he paid attention to the beauties of the world he lived in, both Meifu and Chijou, and how much he wanted to go back and rediscover it all. He wanted to not feel sad anymore, not feel regret and not play with afterlife like it was a worthless thing, something he had done with his life before death.

He let his head fall back on the pillows and watched as birds chirped and jumped around in the sakura branches. One little sparrow got too bold and dived down, too fast for the eye to see, and swept through the fragile blossoms twisting and spinning its little body. A handful of the petals scattered around in its passage, floating on the wind and spreading across the expanse of the field. It created a gorgeous palette of pink, yellow and green. It made Tsuzuki smile.

It had been three weeks since the Apocalypse had happened. Three week which he had gone through many stages of his body and soul inching closer and then away from crossing over to permanent eternity. The first week was the fever. He didn't remember much of that time, except some flashes in his short bouts of consciousness. These were strewn and somewhat unrelated at times. Images of Hisoka lying in the bed next to his, of hearing Tatsumi and the nurse argue in the next room about something that had to do with cast, and Watari trying to calm them down. He also had memory snapshots of some of the other shinigami, particularly Wakaba and the Hokkaido girls, standing over him with arms full of sweets and worried expressions on their faces. In the background he could hear Terazuma and the GuShoShin brothers talking in hushed voices. There was even an image of white gloves and a mask, when he was coming out of a fever induced dream panting and crying. He remembered the gentle hands soothing him, wiping tears and sweat from his face, and a kind voice whispering in his ear that gave promises of comfort and health.

The second week saw him waking up, finally coherent enough to understand his environment and the people who shared it with him. On the second day of that week he was able to talk to them, and heard the story of what had really happened. It was important to know if only to be able to distinguish reality from his grotesque nightmares. From the others he heard that the Apocalypse had been in fact the most frightening thing they had seen in their lives, as humans or a messengers of death. Yet they confessed that it had also been far less destructive than it was rumored to be. It had created incredible explosions worthy of its reputation, yet nothing worse than the last time Tsuzuki or one of his Shikigamis had gone berserk and destroyed the library for example, and most of it had happened as it had passed through structures too weak to withstand its force. The center of that blast however – as Tatsumi had predicted – had been where they all had huddled, under the singular protection of Suzaku's wings. And that was why they had been the only people seriously injured yet still alive.

Suzaku had protected them, as had Byyako, and there was no doubt about that. The two Shikigamis had taken minor damages themselves. But all in all, the casualties had been low, a little explosion shock for Hisoka, a broken arm for Tatsumi, and Tsuzuki being the worst casualty of them all.

It was during that week that Tsuzuki had realized that there was someone sitting by his bed every night. He also noticed that most of the nights that person was Tatsumi. But he had also seen Watari and Wakaba do it. Hisoka had argued once to join in, he had heard his voice from another room yelling and stomping his foot. But the older shinigamis had kindly refused, saying that he was too weak yet from his own injuries to be able to withstand a night without sleep. The gesture wasn't lost on Tsuzuki though and his heart filled with a warm feeling for his young partner.

The nightmares wouldn't leave him that easily, even on those nights. Even with the fever gone he still saw images of hell and souls being tormented while their opened claws stretched out to him. And he saw himself more than once as a devil, perched on a high throne with demons all around him at his command. And higher still, observing him gleefully like a mentor would his pupil was the dark Makai lord Mahorath.

One night, when he had awakened from those dreams, his brow sweating and his eyes lined with tears, he felt a strong hand clutching his own as the owner dabbed at his face with a wet cloth. He opened sleep dazed eyes and looked up at the face hovering above him, and he recognized Tatsumi from the glint of moonlight catching the edge of his glasses. He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a choked sound, before the other Shinigami placed a finger on his lips to quiet him down with a comforting whisper.

"It's not real Tsuzuki-san. You are safe."

"Makai…"

"…can never have you now. I promise you Tsuzuki-san, I won't let anyone take you away from us again, not as long as I exist."

He nodded gratefully, eyes filled with purple fire that gently glowed in the night. There was no question he was a demon, Mahorath had finally proven him that. But Enma and Ayaka had shown him things too. He wasn't doomed, he wasn't alone, and there was still a light shining in the dark depths of his soul.

A light he would carry like a spear to keep the darkness at bay.

The third week had been the week of visits. Many people from JuOhCho as well as other parts of Meifu came to see him. He had recovered enough to sit up in bed and greet them, although at the beginning his limbs were shaky and the nurse had to shoo everyone out whenever visiting hour were over and the visitors decidedly ignored it.

That had been the most eventful time of his stay.

He remembered the first wave of people showing up; which included almost everyone. Tatsumi and Watari and Hisoka were the first to enter and, just as he had thought that would be it, in came the GuShoShin brothers, the Hokkaido girls, Wakaba and Terazuma, and chief Konoe. Soon the room was filled with flowers and the whole crowd started chatting and mingling and offering him their gifts. It was a nice change from the calmness of the past days, having so many people around him, although his eyes remained on his three closest friends who had politely stayed in the background to give room to other less frequent visitors. It had given him the chance to observe each of them individually now that he was looking at them through fever-free eyes, and notice the changes that had occurred in each of them.

Tatsumi was his quiet self, straight and authoritative as usual. The way he looked at things, the assessing, evaluative glare he sent everyone and everything around him hadn't changed. Perhaps the man himself hadn't changed much, perhaps not at all, but Tsuzuki knew that if nothing else, something in himself had become different, about the way he looked at his friend. He now could see past the walls the man erected around him all the time, could see the gentle core inside, the love and care and the fierce protectiveness that in the past he had always mistaken for austerity. Maybe it was a change after all, in the simple fact that Tatsumi was /letting/ him see his inner self. Not worried about letting his feelings project or allowing him to see them for what they really were: not stingy strictness, although they were for sure tainted by it due to the nature of the man, but something much deeper, much more emotional. Something that had lodged its roots at the bottom of the older shinigami's heart.

Hisoka was somewhat the same. The younger shinigami was quiet as usual, frowning a little at the noise and the way Saya and Yuma intermittently tried to drag him into their circle. Tsuzuki couldn't help but to smile at the cuteness the boy exuded, the way he hid his timidity behind a screen of annoyance. Hisoka had been there for him during the hardest of times, had even risked his life and freedom, and later his sanity when he had plunged into his dream so close to the Apocalypse, just to make things easier on him. It was so endearing how the boy had tried, so helpless, so vulnerable but giving his best, to stand against such evil as Makai and its prosecutor.

And what had it cost him? What had he been forced to give of himself in order to draw out that inner strength from that small fragile body? Tsuzuki thought as he observed the blond in silence, the nervous moves, the quiet skittishness, still wary against any touch, even as innocent as the ones from the girls.

'He touched me in my dilemma. That night he came to me during the trial… to bring me food.'

He had to admit Hisoka's behavior had been a complete turn-around during that time. He couldn't have remembered a time when the younger shinigami had been more open and straight forward about his feelings. Had it been uncomfortable for him? Or was the stress too great for him to even notice? Was that why the boy was avoiding his eyes now, blushing fiercely whenever their eyes accidentally met? Tsuzuki couldn't help but to chuckle inwardly at how cute that image was.

Yet the laughter would immediately die as soon as he turned his eyes to the last member of the trio, the one who in his eyes had changed the most.

Watari was the only one actively participating in the activities going on around the bed. Talking, laughing and being his general cheerful self. But Tsuzuki could see, in the man's every move, in the quick silent moments where the forced smile would coincidentally slip away to reflect the sadness that lay just below the surface. He had played the same act himself for such a long time that it was simply impossible for him to miss it.

'What had happened to upset him? What could have possibly happened to /him?'

There was no way for him to know. Not with the gaps that filled his memory of that time like holes in an aged slice of cheese. Only isolated images from the last days of the trial, hiding in his own mind after summoning the Apocalypse, and then Mahorath's throne, where darkness had claimed him for a span of time that seemed much too long. He wasn't even sure if any of the rest had been real: Enma showing up, Ayaka's wager and again, another plunge into darkness.

It had been a long hard road.

That night, the night after the first visit, Tatsumi was the one watching his bed. Even though he was getting better and the nurse had confirmed he didn't need a watcher anymore, his friends and especially the secretary still seemed to feel the need to be with him. Not that he was ungrateful.

That night they talked. He initiated their conversation based on a need to know more. Tatsumi was first reluctant to talk, insisting that he, Tsuzuki, needed to rest until Tsuzuki convinced him that it was really all right and that this was more important than sleep. He needed to know, his mind pleading for answers. Tatsumi finally caved in and they began a long talk that went on well into the night. It was that night that he found out how it all had went down, about Suzaku and Byyako, the blast, and Isorou Masaki's fate.

Tatsumi hadn't been sure about many things in his story. But his guess as to why Watari was sad seemed to be as accurate as Tsuzuki's. He told Tsuzuki that the blond had been the one going after Isorou just before the Apocalypse had reached them. They had run back together toward the shelter but then he confirmed that Watari had been the only one entering. Whatever happened after that was anybody's guess since most of them had been shaken into injuries when the wave had hit them. There had been no remains, nothing found of the prosecutor to tell them about his fate.

Tsuzuki pondered that for a while. He knew that both he and Tatsumi, especially Tatsumi judging by the way he spoke, held no love for the prosecutor. But what about Watari? What if there was something that had happened between them that had changed the nature of their relationship.

As if sensing his thoughts Tatsumi had intercepted them. "I don't believe he felt anything but pity for the man." he said about their friend, "Watari told me, just before he went off to get Isorou, that there was a reason for us to care for his survival. I never got the chance to ask him what it was, and now it seems like he doesn't even want to bring up the subject."

Tsuzuki had turned his eyes away from him and their conversation had taken an unforeseen turn.

ooo

"I don't want him to be sad." Tsuzuki whispered into the quite night.

Tatsumi raised his eyes to him. "Don't be upset Tsuzuki-san. You've been through enough not to have to worry about another person's problems right now," he said.

Tsuzuki turned his eyes away.

"I'm sorr…"

"Don't be." Tatsumi snapped. Then, seeing his mistake in the wide purple eyes, he softened. "It's not your fault Tsuzuki-san. I tried to tell you so many times that not everything is your fault. People have problems and everyone has to learn to go through theirs on their own. It's not your responsibility to worry about everyone who's in trouble."

"If…if that's so, Tatsumi-san, then why did you worry about me so much?"

Tsuzuki's voice was soft, barely heard if it weren't for the silence.

Tatsumi's glasses flashed. The man tried to hide some particular emotion behind his mask, his mouth opening to deliver a routine answer, a denial, an excuse, something…he'd done it so many times, so many many times in the past, in his life at JuOhCho all those years when he had watched the purple eyed shinigami from afar. Hiding his feelings and keeping himself distant, denied the forbidden fruit…

Not anymore. Tatsumi swallowed his words. Thought about what he had learned from the difficult experience, and decided not to hide anymore.

His reply was carefully spelled out.

"Because I care for you very much, Tsuzuki-san. I've loved you for a long time, since the time we were partners, and always acted poorly on it. My actions hurt you more then they helped you, and I deluded myself into thinking I was doing it to protect you when in fact all I was doing was being a coward, protecting myself from having to face the truth. I don't want that anymore, so I tell you now Tsuzuki-san, my heart is yours. You can do whatever you like with it, mock it, break it, throw it away or accept it. No matter what you do, know this: you will always have my protection and I will always be there for you."

He stopped and looked at the other man with a steady gaze. He felt the tugging of a hidden smile at the sides of his mouth seeing the astonished look on the other man's face. Tsuzuki's purple eyes were googly wide and his mouth wide open. And were those puppy ears and a tail peeking out from somewhere?

Tsuzuki was adorable. It was too hard to remember what Tasumi had been so afraid of. This was a creature to be loved, to be cherished and adored and as the earl had said, there wasn't a single grain of shame in that.

Tatsumi let the smile show as he sat on the bed next to Tsuzuki and pulled the shocked man into his arms. Tsuzuki's eyes turned to him, brilliant purple pools of innocence and surprise.

"What, Tsuzuki-san? You didn't expect me to say that?"

"I--I had no idea, I mean I would have guessed something, sometimes had thought--but you never, I mean you always acted like--."

"--like I was mad at you? Like I despised everything you did? Gods, Hakushaku-san was right. You /are/ truly clueless."

Tsuzuki pulled back with a pout, clearly offended. "Hakushaku-san? You're taking cues from him? That invisible, perverted, to-old-to-even-be-your-grandpa, stalker?"

Tatsumi chuckled and pulled Tsuzuki back into his embrace. "Yes, Tsuzuki-san. Him. And you'd be surprised to know how useful he could be sometimes."

Tsuzuki made a face. "Yeah, right. What did he tell you?"

Tatsumi stroked the puppy's nose with his finger. "Now that's between him and I." He laughed when he saw Tsuzuki pout again.

'What did they tell me? What can I say to you Tsuzuki-san, now that you have officially become the most important person in my life, my responsibility?'

He remembered, a few days after he had been fit enough to leave the hospital…

ooo

He walked the corridors in silence, his footsteps echoing all around him. His outward appearance radiated calm, pride and a sense of self-confidence. His insides matched it. Never more would he feel any apprehension from the beings who resided in the upper echelons of the otherworld, never more would he back away in fear before he would make them listen to what he had to say. Even if it cost him his life he would be firm, and protect the ones he loved from the ones who intended to harm them.

That was his resolution as he walked towards Enma's throne room.

_'Tatsumi-san, I need to discuss important matters with you. I want you to come to me the day after your injuries are healed. Meet me in the yellow room alone. Hakushaku-san will be there as well.'_

No fear, no anxiety this time. He had been to hell and back and nothing they have planned for him would faze him anymore. And if it were about Tsuzuki – which he was almost certain it was – he would walk into it with fangs and claws bared.

The yellow room where Enma's throne was placed was not that different from Mahorath's room. Same prevalent darkness only broken in places by spotlights with indistinct sources, same extravagant carvings and decorations, same silent deity with an obscured face. Tatsumi walked the few steps from the door to where a single spot of light was illuminating the floor in front of the platform where the deity stood. He looked to the right once he reached that spot and slightly bowed his head to the mask and two gloves that currently hovered somewhere in the shadows. He received a similar greeting from the invisible being before turning his attention back to the god in front of him, an impressive form fully dressed in silken robes and a tall hat.

_"We have been expecting you, Tatsumi-san. I am pleased you came."_

"You expected me to bale out, Enma-sama? Don't you think that is a rather low opinion of my person?"

_"You have become fearless, Tatsumi-san. A trait that is becoming for the task we are about to appoint you to."_

"A task…?"

"From this day on you are going to take on a new position in Meifu." It was the earl speaking. Tatsumi's head turned toward him.

"You will be appointed the covert personal guardian of EnmaDiao's successor"

Tatsumi's eyes went wide. "You don't mean--."

The count tilted his head in a gesture that could very much be a taunt, or a wink had the man had a face.

"Of course I mean whom you think I mean. You have to admit he's quite oblivious in many ways and needs to be watched over. Now Enma has noticed how his precious destined one could come under the attack of his foes. He is giving you the power to protect him should the necessity of it arise."

At that time Enma raised his hands and light shone from the tips of his fingers, wisps of it unfurling like cigarette smoke and surrounding Tatsumi. He didn't flinch and didn't take his eyes off Hakushaku.

"Like when I was fighting Isorou?"

"Now you can fight anyone, if it is to defend Tsuzuki-san. As long as you stay in touch with Enama-dono and consult your actions with him."

"Why aren't you giving this power to Tsuzuki himself?"

_"Tsuzuki already has powers much greater than this. However, the darkness in him has such a predominant presence that makes it impossible for him to use his powers without risking loss of control. That is the reason that necessitates the harnessing of shikigamis, and why Tsuzuki has so many of them. He is perfectly capable of fighting without their aid; but he knows that if he does, there's nothing to guaranty the result won't be another Apocalypse."_

Tatsumi shuddered at the thought, the weight of the responsibility assigned to him just making itself known. He knew why Enma had given him the task, understood the urgency of it being a secret. Tsuzuki hadn't called for any of his shikis during his last battle, had in fact blocked their connection to prevent them from getting involved. If Tsuzuki knew he had a guardian in Meifu he would most likely do the same, he would make sure he was the farthest away from that person whenever there was any hints of trouble, defying their purpose completely.

_"Do you accept the duty, Tatsumi-san?"_

Tatsumi closed his eyes and bowed his head. He had been willing to die for his purple eyed friend. If Enma even knew a fraction of what he felt inside, he wouldn't have seen the need to ask that question.

"I accept."

He turned to look over at Hakushaku-sama, who- he now was sure - had had a hand in all this. It was one of those rare moments when you could see a real visible smile appear on the man's non-existent face.

ooo

It wasn't as if life didn't exist this side of the afterworld. Tsuzuki could see the birds and the bees and the flowers from his room's window. It was just that no shinigami seemed to ever step foot in the field of flowers, making him think it were off limits, the beauty of its nature preventing JuOhCho employees to step in it and disturb its tranquility.

It was why he was surprised one day to see someone standing there. In the middle of the third week Tsuzuki was certifiably bored, looking out of the window at the beautiful field it took his eyes some adjusting to realize the dark speck he was seeing moving among the greens and the yellows was in fact a person. Since he could walk – though ordered by the doctor to take it easy – he had hopped out of the bed and gotten closer to the window to have a better look. It had proven him right. He /was/ looking at a shinigami in the field. It was far but he had had no problem recognizing the blond hair, or the kendo outfit, or the graceful movements accompanied by the swipes of a sword.

Hisoka had become a rather skilful sword player.

His hand had touched the glass longingly. Since the Apocalypse he had seen the blond often, but always either through fever soaked, delusional eyes or in the company of others. They hadn't had any time alone, not like he had had with Tatsumi. And he needed that time with Hisoka, as much as he had needed it with the older shinigami, to talk about things that had been left unsaid and to put some other things behind them.

He watched the younger shinigami's dance quietly, his stylish and agile movements, the shiny blade of the sword barely a blur through its dips and arcs. It was true; Hisoka had improved, though it was uncertain whether it had been because of extensive practicing or special tutelage. Tsuzuki remembered the boy starting to pick up swordsmanship right after he had been kidnapped by Muraki, when he had fought the mad doctor's friend Oria for the key.

He told him later how he had vowed to become a master swordsman like the long haired fighter himself. To protect him.

Wasn't it funny how they both had vows to protect each other?

At last came the day that was the last day of his stay at the hospital. The day he was well enough to be sure he could leave and go back. When he could finally feel that things have gotten back to normal and life had finally returned to what it was and no matter what anyone said he could finally go out and get some desert.

He was well again, his troubles were over regardless of what the doctors said and the way they insisted he be cautious for a few more days and not overdo it.

Everything was all right.

Despite everything.

Despite the nightmares.

He was told his friends had planned a party for him at Hakushaku's estate. He was gathering his things when Tatsumi showed up to escort him. The older man had a small smile on his lips; one of the many Tsuzuki had seen him wearing often recently. In many ways, Tsuzuki was happy about the transformation recent events had caused inside the formerly cold and insensible secretary. Tatsumi's smile, precious and delightful as it was, was not a rarity anymore, at least not for him.

They walked out among the cheers and goodbyes of the hospital staff, some of the nurses blowing kisses and other flirtatious signals towards them. He had to suppress a grin at the thought of Tatsumi ever getting together with any of them, how the poor woman would have to watch him count every penny he spent on her. He turned to look at his companion, saw that rare smile again and his heart trembled with joy, even though through some mysterious wisdom he knew this would be one of the last chances he would get to enjoy it. That when they went back to JuOhCho tomorrow morning everything would be back to business as usual, down to the stoic Tatsumi with the icy glare.

But for now, he would soak up every bit of this uncharacteristic warmth and benevolence from the other man, along with the beautiful sunshine that poured on leaves and flowers and the breeze that slightly got caught in the folds of his trench coat and made it flap.

He was so deep in those thoughts he didn't notice they weren't directly headed for the Castle of the Candles but had taken a detour. Tatsumi was leading him to a secluded courtyard in one of Meifu's less visited sections. He wanted to ask him about it when they passed through a stone arch that lead to the yard and he saw three figures standing in the center of the area. His eyes took time adjusting to the shadows mottled by sunlight passing through the swaying leaves of the tall overhead trees but even from the distance he was able to identify two of the three figures. Suzaku with her customary red and black ceremonial robe and Byyako, wearing equally decorated garbs but mostly recognizable by his swishing black and white tail.

The third person, though he did recognize him, was hard to believe being there. The pale blue colors of SohRyo's majestic gown seemed to be in tune with the coolness of the shadows around him.

Tatsumi stopped when they reached the clearing at the center of the yard. He made a short bow to SohRyu and a nod to each of the other shikigamis who responded in turn. Then he turned to Tsuzuki, who seemed to be rooted to the spot, and beckoned him to step forward. Tsuzuki was too surprised to react immediately. Even when he did start walking toward the assembly it was with small tentative steps. Until SohRyu moved, ambling toward him, meeting him half way and then going down on his knees.

It shook the purple eyed shinigami to the core, so much so that he flinched back, as if hit by an electrical field. His face was contorted in an expression almost akin to pain.

"Soh…Ryu?"

"Master." The Water Dragon uttered with his head bowed and the folds of his gown pooling all around him.

"SohRyu, why are you on your knees. I thought I told you not to kneel in front of me. Stand up." Tsuzuki had recovered slightly from the shock of seeing his highest ranking shikigami, the golden emperor of Gensoukai, in a secluded courtyard in such condition. Tatsumi had never seen him interact with his guardians in a non-battle situation and it amazed him how much the creature's submission bothered the man.

SohRyu didn't rise at the command, didn't even raise his head.

"I'm here to ask for your forgiveness sire, and receive your punishment."

Worry and shock returned to Tsuzuki's eyes as he raised them to first look at Suzaku and then Byyako inquiringly. The phoenix was like a stone statue, standing ramrod straight and not looking at him but at a place beyond his right shoulder, as if to indicate she had nothing to do with whatever was going on in front of them. Byyako also avoided his gaze, but his posture was more that of a guilty child, scraping the floor with the tip of his boot while his tail moved from one side to the other in an arc. It was obvious that neither was comfortable in the situation and was willing to avoid it as much as possible, which meant Tsuzuki had to face it alone.

Tsuzuki turned his attention back to the Water Dragon still kneeling on the ground.

"SohRyu, please tell me what it is I have to forgive you for."

"The impossible sin of abandoning you to the fates and the cruel decisions that caused you so much suffering."

"But I never summoned you for help. It wasn't your responsibility when you didn't know I was in trouble."

"I knew…they told me about it one or two weeks before the trial. And I had agreed."

That made Tsuzuki stagger. He stood there staring at the top of SohRyu's head, not knowing how to respond. It was hard for him to believe what the shikigami was saying, that he had been in on the plot that had ended in one of the most torturous experiences of his unlife.

"Please punish me master. I deserve it because I listened to Enma-dono and Mahorath blindly. I should have protected you but instead I cowered in my awe and acted upon my fear of them. I thought it would be impossible to go against them but two lesser guardians proved me wrong."

Tsuzuki's eyes immediately snapped back to Suzaku and the tiger and this time they both met his gaze solidly. Things slowly began to make sense for the confused shinigami as he started to see the bigger picture.

Tsuzuki smiled. SohRyu was still on the ground, still not looking up at him or anywhere but a few feet in front of him when he found a pair of arms closing around his shoulders, Tsuzuki bending down to his level and starting to pull him to his feet.

"Come on SohRyu. You know what I've always asked of every one of you. You are not supposed to kneel. You are all my friends. Friends don't kneel in front of their friends, remember? How am I supposed to talk to you if I can't see your face? How am I supposed to have fun with my friends when I have to keep picking them off of the floor?"

Beastly golden eyes turned toward him as the creature in his arms finally met his eyes. Tsuzuki trembled at the raw power in that gaze, the knowledge that he was holding one of the most powerful beings heaven or earth had known. The storm beneath the calm, the spirit of the beast rumbling just beneath the surface.

This creature was tamed, and it was his guardian. And for one moment Tsuzuki felt it incredibly funny how a little insignificant guy like him could command such a legend.

The golden eyes never left his. The deep voice that came from the emperor felt as if it was shaking his whole body to the bone. "You are squeezing me too hard, Tsuzuki-san. May I have some personal space here, please?"

The rumbled command was so unexpected that it made the shinigami let go immediately and back off a few steps, his embarrassment evident by the blush that stained his cheeks.

It was such a funny scene that Suzaku couldn't contain herself and let out a short laugh. She stifled it quickly but that had been enough for Byyako to let go of his barely restrained chortles and start laughing out loud. Soon even Tatsumi had joined the laughter squad and Tsuzuki found himself in the centre of a gurgling group of happy immortals.

He looked up in time to see SohRyu was smiling as well. It warmed his heart that the mood had finally changed and they were all out of the uncomfortable situation.

"I trust that this means you have forgiven me, Tsuzuki-san." SohRyu said.

Tsuzuki gave him his best smile and held out his hand for a handshake. "Forgiven and forgotten. Although I don't think there was anything to forgive in the first place."

SohRyu took his hand but instead of shaking it he went down on one knee and touched his forehead to the back of it, a distinctly respectful gesture from a shikigami to his master.

Once again Tsuzuki found himself in an awkward place, not knowing how to react and blushing like a shy maiden.

Byyako's laughter was so loud he barely heard Sohryu speak.

"From now until the end of my existence I swear allegiance and duty to you and only you, my master and heir to the great Enma-diao."

SohRyu stood after that. Tatsumi who had been quiet all this time stepped forward and addressed the high ranking shikigami.

"Now that this is done, would you three like to join us in our celebration at Hakushaku's place?"

The dragon tipped his head. "No, we have duties on our own to attend. But we are looking forward to Tsuzuki-san's next visit to Gensoukai. We will be preparing our own celebration for his return."

Tsuzuki looked up and saw Byyako wink at him. He had intended to go to Gensoukai as soon as he had recovered but a celebration was more than he had expected from his friends. The steady look in the three shikigamis' eyes told him there was no room for argument. So he smiled and bowed his head. "Domo arigato you all. I promise I'll be there as soon as I can."

He felt Tatsumi put a hand on his shoulder and looked up as the older man spoke. "Well, if there isn't anything else, we should be on our way."

Tsuzuki nodded and they started walking out of the courtyard. Before their exit Tsuzuki turned his head to look at Byakko still laughing at an increasingly annoyed SohRyu.

"My gods, did you see his face? You know how much it freaks him out when you act all 'yes-master', yet you still had to do it, didn't you?"

"It is tradition, ignorant child."

"Oh, like he of all people cares. You just do it to make yourself happy…"

"Byakko. Shut up."

"Yes, ma'm."

ooo

"Now that was weird. I could've sworn he said 'heir to Enma-diao' or something."

Tatsumi's barely perceptible frown was his only reaction to Tsuzuki's mumbling. They finally reached the English gardens around the earl's castle and walked amongst the tall trees to where the party was happening. Excited now, Tsuzuki was sprinting ahead when he saw Tatsumi slow down for a moment, looking in another direction before he stopped.

"Tatsumi-san, what is it?"

Tsuzuki's gaze followed Tatsumi's to a clearing in the garden where an empty gazebo was standing under the tall trees. It was a plain structure made of wood, nothing special about it, nothing that merited Tatsumi looking at it so pensively.

Tsuzuki was still confused and blinking when Tatsumi turned to him and said, "Sorry Tsuzuki-san. I'm coming, let's go."

"But wha--"

For a moment it looked like Tatsumi wanted to say something but changed his mind. Instead he looked up brightly at Tsuzuki and said, "I'll tell you later. Let's go now or we will be late."

He started walking and Tsuzuki followed, still occasionally turning back to look at the gazebo. He knew there were many secrets inside Tatsumi's mind, things that happened to the secretary during the time he was on trial that he would never be able to find out. It made him wonder how deep the injuries went. Was it possible he had lost parts of his friend that he could never get back? The thought pained him, and so did the thought that Tatsumi wasn't the only one who had suffered like that and that in the end, it had all been because of him.

As he and Tatsumi rounded the last neatly trimmed hedge in their way, the path opened in front of them to a view of slim white patio furniture set tidily underneath the shades occupied by a group of people who immediately stood up upon seeing them.

His friends were all there.

Seeing them had a magical effect on Tsuzuki. His mood changed immediately and he started grinning. /Everyone/ was there. The shinigami of the Shokan Division, the GuShoShin brothers, the Hokkaido girls, Konoe kachou and the earl himself. They all rushed over to Tsuzuki, showering him with greetings and cheers and he was overwhelmed to see everyone so happy. He kept up the smile, laughing and chatting from one person to the other while Tatsumi stood back, watching him with caring eyes. Until the earl took a step forward and Tsuzuki - having heard from Tatsumi about his role in the events– turned to thank him, only to have a pair of white gloves close around him and the invisible body pressing onto him in an impossible hug. Even though the body was see through, its solidity was undeniable and when it was crushing one in a tight hug, it was a serious life hazard. All of a sudden Tsuzuki felt the wind knocked out of him as the mask came closer and closer, the invisible grin on the face vibrating the air.

"Ha--ku--sha--ku--sama…"

The Hokkaido girls started laughing at the image he made, all squeezed up with nothing around him, but the earl got the hint and let him go. Tsuzuki staggered back a bit, rubbing his arms and neck in gasping relief.

"Welcome Tsuzuki-san. I'm so glad you are finally here," said the earl.

"Well, he would be back in bed soon if you give him another one of those body crushers." Tatsumi said while making his way toward them with someone in tow.

"Oh come on Tatsumi-san, it was just a hug. I am allowed to show my excitement in /some/ way, aren't I?"

The crowd blocked Tsuzuki's eye from seeing who was with Tatsumi. But when he got closer Tatsumi ignored the earl and turned to Tsuzuki. "Tsuzuki-san, there's someone here who very much likes to meet you." And from behind the faces Ayaka appeared, shy and reluctant, stepping forward only because Tatsumi insisted by pulling her arm and placing her in front of Tsuzuki.

"Hello, Tsuzuki-san." She bowed.

"Ayaka-chan! You are really…? How come…?"

"Enma-sama decided." She said blushingly.

"She is a shinigami now." Saya cheered, "Her division isn't decided yet but it's likely she'll end up in yours."

"Oh that's so great, Ayaka-chan. We can have a lot of fun. Do you like cooking?" Tsuzuki said joyfully.

"A little."

"Awesome. I love to make food. I'll make something for you when you come to work, ok?"

He turned in surprise when everyone started making gagging noises and Ayaka laughed. "I'm sure I would love it." She replied.

They soon gravitated toward the tables where plates had been set for lunch and desert. Tsuzuki was in his best mood when the food started being served and he gobbled up fork after fork of the delicious meal the earl's kitchen had prepared for them. The desert was apple pie and ice cream and confirmed the general suspicion that the menu was primarily customized for Tsuzuki's taste.

The puppy shinigami felt in heaven. He had desert smeared all over his face and was putting piece after piece of pie into his mouth when a hand suddenly slapped him on the back of the head and made him cough the food.

"Eat slower, baka. You're gonna choke."

Tsuzuki turned and whined, "'Hisoka! You're so meeeean."

Hisoka ignored him as he took his place at the table next to Tatsumi and the younger Gushoshin.

"Hisoka-kun, where were you? You missed the meal." said the Gushoshin.

"I was practicing."

"Kendo? Again?"

"Yes, Oriya-sensei had to end our last session early because of some business so he told me to go there today. I figured I'd make it for lunch but then I encountered a monster on my way back and had to kill it before--."

"Wow, what? Hisoka, you practice kendo with Oriya? You slay monsters on your own?"

Hisoka looked at Tsuzuki as if puzzled by his surprise. "You didn't know? I've been going to him for almost a month now. And yes, I can slay monsters because I can combine kendo with Fuda."

"Hisoka's been teaching Ayaka-chan how to use Fuda in fights." Wakaba chimed in from another table, "But Ayaka-chan prefers illusionary magic. They make quite a team."

"A team?" Tsuzuki said, "You mean I've been…replaced?" His eyes grew worried as he looked from Hisoka to Tatsumi.

Tatsumi put his hand on Tsuzuki's in reassurance. "No Tsuzuki-san, you haven't been replaced. Once you are ready to go back you'd be teaming up with Hisoka again. Only before Ayaka has found her division and paired up with someone she'll be accompanying you and Hisoka on your missions, to learn the ropes so to say."

Tsuzuki's expression immediately brightened up. "Oh that's really great. I'm sure she'll love my shikis." He turned to a quiet Ayaka and started ticking off fingers. " There's Byakko and SohRyu and Genbu and Tohda and Suaku-neesan and…"

"Tsuzuki! That's enough."

Hisoka's warning made him close his mouth and cower a little, looking at his partner apologetically. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be happy and smile at Watari-san's exceptional, amazing all-purpose memory-maker, picture-taker **Siiiiiiir Snippy**." Watari's voice reached them before something large and wobbly was placed right at the center of the table. It looked like an old fashioned camera perched on a swaying unipod. It stopped in the upright position once its motion stilled and Watari pointed at it with a goofy grin on his face to make sure he got everyone's attention.

"No, Watari-san. Not another invention." Tatsumi sighed and shook his head. He was most likely thinking about the budget that had gone into making the ridiculous looking gadget and how much more it would cost them once it blew up or melted or was subjected to any of the other drastic fates most Watari's inventions ended with.

"What does it do, Watari-san?" someone asked.

"Well, on the surface it's just a camera. But look closer and you'll see it's so much more. It takes pictures that are magical. You take them now and look at them a month later and you know how everyone felt at the time the picture was taken."

"How is that possible?" Hisoka asked, a bit curious.

"Easy Bon. The pictures Sir Snippy takes are all mood indicators." He grinned.

A collective gasp, then, "What's a mood indicator?"

"It's a picture that indicates the vibe that comes off of its subject. It shows the mood through colors: green is happy, blue is sad, red is angry etcetera, etcetera. The mood shows up on the rim around the picture, looks like a frame but it tells you much more."

"You're not going to walk around the office snapping pictures of your coworkers while they're doing their job, are you Watari-san? You have a job and it's not office photographer," said Tatsumi.

Watari grinned as he turned to his superior. "No worries Tatsumi-san. Besides, this is a gift for Tsuzuki. He's the one who will decide how to use it. But first, to demonstrate the power, let me take a picture of you all."

He took the camera and walked a few paces away. Everyone gathered behind Tsuzuki as the picture was snapped. Watari waited for a few seconds before pulling it out of the camera like a Polaroid photo. He looked at it for a while and started chuckling.

"So what's the verdict camera boy?"

"See for yourself." He handed the picture to Tsuzuki who sat in the middle of a towering wall of people behind him. Everyone bent over the photograph and saw why Watari was amused.

The frame of the picture was a rainbow of colors. Obviously there were a lot of different vibes in the collective subject of the picture. Yet what was more interesting was how the colors changed where they got closer to a particular person. Saya and Yuma, standing on the right and both showing peace signs to the camera had a neon green edge while the edge closest to a frowning Hisoka was distinctly red.

Tsuzuki was in the center so his vibe was hidden, lost amongst the friends who surrounded him.

'Just like always' Tatsumi thought as he looked at his best friend's smiling face in the picture. 'Hidden by a smile, a cheer, an apple pie. Surrounded by a group of happy people. I wonder if there would be an invention in the world that could see through that closed off shell of yours, Tsuzuki-san.'

ooo

Later in the afternoon when everyone dispersed to rest and relax Tsuzuki approached Ayaka.

"How are you doing?" He asked the quiet woman who was sitting alone under a tree.

"I'm fine." She looked up with a smile.

"Um, I just wanted to say, what you did for me--"

"Don't even mention it. I did it for myself too. I needed to break free and you were the only option I had."

Tsuzuki sat down next to her. "So you're finally free of her?"

"Nourian? Yeah, I think so. I no longer feel her at the back of my mind."

"Wow, you mean you could feel her even when you were…you?"

"Yes, and I could see and feel what she did from the back of /her/ mind while she was in control."

Tsuzuki wrinkled his nose. "That's terrible. It's like someone hijacking you body."

Ayaka closed her eyes and grinned, raising her hand and putting a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. But thankfully not anymore."

The motion made Tsuzuki notice her hair. "Hey, you changed your hairstyle. No more loopy ponytails."

"It was her favorite style, not mine. I was too weary of changing it whenever I got hold of my body."

Tsuzuki leaned back and looked at the sky through the leaves. "So I guess it feels good to finally be free, doesn't it?"

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're free from the trial."

Tsuzuki's brow tightened. "I don't know? Am I really? I hardly remember anything from my meeting with Mahorath and Enma-diao. But I know they were debating over me, and I know that Enma won in the end. But for how long? And what is this destiny that they were talking about? Why would they pay attention to a low level, broke and worthless shiniga--?"

Ayaka shushed him with a finger on his mouth. "Don't say that. You're not worthless. You are the only person who would be worth risking one's life for."

"You really mean that?"

"I really do."

"Ayaka, I want us to be friends."

Her expression clouded. "I don't know if I could ever deserve your friendship after all she did to you."

Tsuzuki blinked. "Huh? But she is gone, isn't she? And you, you were always nice to me."

Ayaka's eyes closed and she almost whispered, "I know. But she did it all with /my face./ You had to see /me/ hurt you like that, and I had to watch and cry while she did it. I'm not sure the shame of it all would let me be a real friend."

"Oh, come on," Tsuzuki put his arms around the ex-angel and drew her in to a hug. "You're worrying too much. It's all in the past. I've even forgiven her. Who knows, maybe she'd had a bad day, so let's not talk about it, ok? And please, please be my friend. You're the only one who's agreed to taste my food."

Ayaka, a little shaken by the sudden hug, looked back at the purple puppy look the shinigami was giving her and said, "Ok, ok. I'll be your friend."

"And eat my food?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Sugoi!"

They both fell silent after that. Tsuzuki turned away, playing with a blade of grass distractedly.

"So…shinigami, huh?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," she answered, "It was Enma-sama's decision. He said to prove myself a pure angel I have to serve as a shinigami for a while. So that they know my dark side was really gone before they could accept me back into heaven."

"Hey, wouldn't that make you, like…the female version of me?" Tsuzuki said.

Ayaka laughed. "Kind of, I guess." She then sobered. "I'm happy they're partnering me up with you and Hisoka-kun. I don't know many people here and I really want to learn so much."

"Don't worry, I'm not too good at teaching, I screw things up most of times. But 'soka-chan is great, he'll help you become the best shinigami there is."

"I know, he's a very determined young man, isn't he?"

Tsuzuki nodded slightly, but his smile was a bit bitter. "I have a feeling he's been avoiding me after the Apocalypse," he said quietly.

"You think so? Why is that?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure what happened but I must have done something stupid again."

"Why don't you talk to him about it? He's over there." Ayaka pointed toward a spot under the trees where Hisoka was showing his sword skills to a small audience.

Tsuzuki looked at her apprehensively but got to his feet a moment later and started walking toward the younger shinigami.

"Tsuzuki-san."

"Yes." He turned back to see Ayaka blushing. "Ano, would you tell Hisoka-kun that I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused him and that I want to be his friend too?"

Tsuzuki's grin was like purple lilies blooming, all happiness and care this time. "Sure I will." He waved as he left.

ooo

Tsuzuki didn't talk to Hisoka that day. On his way to reach him he was intercepted by Watari who asked him to pose for Sir Snippy. He did it with Saya and Yuma giving peace signs in the background and Watari yelling 1-2-3. Then he snatched the camera from the blond and took a picture of him while he wasn't looking. Since Wakaba showed up at that moment with a handful of fudge Popsicles for everyone they decided to relax and Watari and Tsuzuki found themselves sitting under a tree while licking their popsicles.

"Hey, Watari," Tsuzuki interrupted the silence while rolling his tongue around the head of the Popsicle.

"Hmm," Watari was sucking on his own, too busy getting all the delicious juice out to pay much attention.

"Watari, why are you sad?" Tsuzuki asked.

"Huh?" Watari looked up, surprised by the question, "who said I was sad?"

"Mr. Snippy." Tsuzuki pulled out the photo he had taken of Watari off-guard and handed it to him. There was Watari at the center of the picture looking the other way and he was surrounded by a dark blue frame going all around the picture.

"So?" Tsuzuki asked.

"Hmm, I don't know. It wasn't supposed to be like this. There must be something wrong with Mr. Snippy's circuits."

"What about Tatsumi-san, and myself?"

"What do you mean?"

Tsuzuki looked down. "We sensed something too, you know. Like you were hiding something from us. As if you weren't as happy and cheerful as you were showing on the outside."

"Look who's talking." Watari laughed but his laugh was hollow and stopped after a short while.

"You aren't that wrong." He said thoughtfully.

"Really? So you are sad." Tsuzuki said.

"Not sad, more like unhappy. I know things worked out in our favor in the end. I just wished everything had been better."

Tsuzuki nodded softly. "I think I know what you're talking about. I heard from Tatsumi, about you and Isorou at the end."

Watari turned quickly, trying to gauge from his friend's expression what he thought.

Tsuzuki gave him a smile. "Don't worry Watari-san. I don't blame you for trying to save him. I would have done the same."

Relief washed over Watari's face, although it was somehow obvious that he hadn't expected anything else from his friend. He then looked down, allowing some of his grief to show.

"I wanted him to have a second chance. I know it might be impossible for you to imagine this after what he did to you, but he hadn't had a good lot in life. He was always alone and when he tried to be my friend I rejected him too because of how mad I was at him. Come to think of it, I should've used the opportunity to know the man better, maybe change his heart."

Tsuzuki was completely silent, neither confirming nor objecting the idea. It was fine anyway because now that he had started talking, Watari seemed to be lost in his own confession, reciting his thoughts of what might have been.

"He kept saying he hated us shinigami, yet he took every opportunity to talk to me and kept calling me his friend. If he could contradict himself like that, maybe he would have changed his mind if I pushed him a little in the right direction. Maybe a little kindness could have made an ally out of him against that evil bastard Mahorath and saved us a lot of pain."

He felt the roughness of Tsuzuki's sleeve against his cheek and came out of his reflection to see his friend had put an arm around his shoulder.

"It's not just that, is it?" Tsuzuki asked kindly.

Watari looked him in the eyes, guilt and resolve warring on his face. "Would you hate me if I said no?"

Tsuzuki smiled. "Nothing in the world would make me hate you, Watari-chan."

"Then yes, you are right." He closed his eyes.

Tsuzuki didn't speak, just waited patiently, looking at his friend, waiting to see if he would add anything.

When Watari opened his eyes, he didn't look at Tsuzuki.

"In the end, I guess I /did/ want to be his friend. His first friend."

Tsuzuki nodded, and then they hugged each other and Tsuzuki thought he heard the faint sound of a sob.

But when Watari pulled back he was grinning again. Tsuzuki watched him jump to his feet and take up the camera.

"No point sitting around, ne? I have a lot more pictures to take. And I want you in every single one of them." He grabbed Tsuzuki's arm and dragged him to his feet despite the other's protests.

They spent the rest of the day snapping pictures and acting happy. Everyone was glad sensing the ordinary way of life slowly beginning to come back to Meifu. The storm was behind them.

oooo

The next evening saw Tsuzuki and Hisoka sitting in the small kitchen of their apartment eating dinner together. It was unnaturally quiet, the silence only broken by the sound of crickets chirping outside and the splashes of water in their garden pond.

Tsuzuki finished eating and put his chopsticks down, looking at Hisoka through sober eyes.

"'Soka-chan, I think we need to talk."

Hisoka was still eating but seeing the serious look on Tsuzuki's face he put his bowl down and looked at his partner.

"Talk? About what?"

"About… everything. You, me, us." He squirmed a little in his seat, then looked up again. " 'soka-chan, why are you avoiding me? Is there something wrong?"

"What do you mean? I'm not avoiding you. Where by Enma did you get that idea from?"

Tsuzuki sighed. "I don't know, maybe it's just my intuition but every time I see you, you are either working, or reading or practicing kendo."

"That's what I've been always doing, even before…" He cut himself off before he finished the sentence. He especially didn't seem ready to be reminded of their most recent experience.

"I know 'soka-chan. But you still talked to me. We used to go on walks, have tea together. Now it's just sword practice. I'm wondering if it is my fault that you don't like to spend time with me."

Hisoka didn't answer right away. He looked down at his lap and a bit later, said in a low voice. "It's not your fault."

"Then what is it? Please Hisoka, tell me." Hisoka looked up at the urgent tone in his partner's voice just before Tsuzuki schooled his sad expression and said more evenly, "Please 'soka-chan, I miss you so much."

Hisoka looked down again, as if afraid or ashamed to meet the other's eyes. "I feel like…I-- I failed you. With Isorou and Mahorath. Just like with Muraki in Kyoto--"

"'Soka-chan! What are you talking about?" Tsuzuki sounded shocked.

Hisoka didn't look up, but his hands turned into fists in his lap. "I didn't do anything. When Muraki had me it only took you half a day to find and rescue me. When he captured you I was too late. And then this trial…I should have done so much, but I just sat there and watched…until you were almost beyond our reach. I couldn't even prevent the Apocalypse."

Tsuzuki's eyes softened. "I think you're being too hard on yourself 'soka-chan."

"No," the boy slammed his fists onto the table, looking up with angry eyes. "Why? Because I'm a kid, not old enough to be useful. I tried so hard, so hard. It just…it wasn't enough."

"But you don't have to--"

"I'm going to practice so hard, become so good. And I'll beat anyone who tries to take you away again. I have promised myself and I'm not going back on it. Like this, you won't need me for anything, nothing. I'll make sure my presence means something, that I am what you need when the time comes."

He stood up, took his bowl and plate to the sink and left the kitchen.

Tsuzuki just stared. He wanted to tell him that he /was/ what he needed right now. That his presence meant everything and that all he wanted was Hisoka himself. But the boy had already gone into his bedroom and closed the door.

oooo

Later at night Tsuzuki woke up from a nightmare. He couldn't clearly remember what it was just that it had been disturbing enough to wake him up. He closed his eyes but his vision immediately filled up with images of hell and demons and moaning, suffering souls. His eyes opened wide and he tried his best not to tremble. It was nothing new, he was used to nightmares. His life, and after-life, provided enough source material for the most colorful of them.

He saw someone standing in the middle of the room. Blinking, he tried to adjust his eyes even though he knew who it was. Hisoka was the only person living in the same apartment and he must have somehow awakened him.

Tsuzuki propped himself up in the bed and looked at the boy through squinting eyes.

"Soka-chan, something the matter?"

"You're the one asking? I came because you were moaning so loud you could probably be heard all the way in Chijou."

"Oh…was I?"

"Were you what? Moaning?" Hisoka said as he approached the bed and started getting into the bed beside Tsuzuki. "Yes, and you were very loud."

Tsuzuki's cheeks darkened. "Sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Baka." Hisoka cut him off as he pulled the blanket over both of them.

Tsuzuki didn't ask if Hisoka meant to stay with him that night. Didn't question if he was allowed to put his arms around the boy's small form. He even hid his amazement as Hisoka turned to face him, wrapping his own arms around Tsuzuki's body. He only knew that once they settled and he closed his eyes, the nightmares receded far far away, to a place where they couldn't touch him anymore. He felt that no one could touch him, nothing bad could happen to him as long as they stayed like this together, each one providing a fragile protection around the other.

And it was fragile, not strong, not even close, seeing as whom and what they were, the past they shared and the future they feared. But for now, for this one moment in time, against all the ghosts of his powerful enemies and the horrors that lurked within his own mind, it was enough.

They both fell asleep.

Somewhere, far away from the little apartment in Meifu where the two shinigamis slumbered, someone was watching them with intense angry eyes. Someone made of air, with no physical form attached to the spirit yet a spirit dangerous enough to destroy many happy lives.

"You think you escaped Tsuzuki Asato? You think you defeated me and proven yourself the hero. Hah, you're wrong. And I am going to show you just how wrong you are. You are as much a demon as any of us, even worse than me. You just hide yourself better but you can't hide forever. Now I know your weaknesses, your most intimate desires and fears. I'm coming for you Tsuzuki Asato. I'll come and I will take back what's mine and send you to the pits of hell where you belong."

The being dissipated after that like mist, the echo of its last words drifting through the air and carried by the wind to the furthest recess of the land of dead.

Hisoka cracked his eyes open. He listened intently to make sure the whisper he thought he heard over the wind was just the rustle of the trees. When there was only silence that greeted him he closed his eyes again, tightening his arms around his partner and going back to sleep. His night was dreamless.

The End

Tessa Marlene  
August 2005

* * *

So there you have it. I hope most of you liked this conclusion to the story. I know a number of you won't but there's so much I can do as an author. I did my best to cover all bases, tie all loose ends and pay attention to all characters that deserved attention. This isn't by far the end of it. There is a lot more that could be said in this universe, like what will happen with the shinigami pair and Ayaka as they go on their missions, what happens to Tatsumi in his new task, and most importantly who is the threat that has vowed to take revenge on Tsuzuki (and I think most of you can guess that one.) But as far as a sequel goes I don't see it happening anytime soon. I am a bit busy with real life and desperately need to take a break, try out some other things, perhaps writing some of my original fiction. But I wanted to let you know that it isn't out of question. 

Since this is the last chapter and the last bit I'll write, I want to take this time to thank everyone who will review the story after this. You are very kind to let me know what you thought about my long rant and like I mentioned in the beginning, this story belongs to you.


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